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AN 

extraorpinary 

<5:^ EXPERIENCE- 

THE ROMANCE OF 

AN ALTER 
S^EGO. 


•LLO/D^BRyCE-* 

BREN TAN O’S, pu bush ers. 



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1 


AN EXTRAORDINARY 
EXPERIENCE; 


OR, 

THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 



LLOYD BRYCE. 



PARIS. 

CHICAGO, 


BRENTANO’S, 

NEW YORK. 


LONDON. 

WASHINGTON. 


< 

V' 


1891. 


Copyright, 

1891, 

By BRENTANO’S, 


PRESS OF F. V. STRAUSS, 

108-114 WOOSTER ST., N. Y. 


1 tftts book 

to 

Mg 



PREFACE TO NEW EDITION. 


It has been suggested to me by my publishers that the 
original title of this book, “ The Romance of an Alter 
Ego,” is somewhat misleading. I have, therefore, 
availed myself of the opportunity offered by the pub- 
lication of this edition to change the title to “ An 
Extraordinary Experience,” retaining the original 
name as a sub-title for the sake of preserving the 
identity of the storv. 


Lloyd Bryce. 







THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


I. 

Now that the excitement is over, I can look back quite 
calmly on events which divided the greatest city of the 
New World into two opposing camps, which sent a chill 
of horror down the spinal column of every bachelor un- 
blessed with hosts of relatives and friends, and afforded 
food for gossip, I might add, to every newspaper through- 
out the entire length and breadth of this mighty land. 
People called the case a sensational one, but if the suit 
were sensational how much more so proved the sequel — 
this sequel, which, though buried in my soul, has at last 
broken through its trammels and burst into print. 

A French judge, it will be remembered, used to say in 
any vexed case, “ Cherchez la femmer — implying that a 
lady was the cause of every trouble. There certainly was 
a lady in my case, without a doubt; there have been 
many ladies in previous cases of mine. I have suffered 
largely through women, and yet, like Lord Beaconsfield, 
I have been largely benefited by the sex. 

As regards iny status in society and how and why I am 
before you, it will be sufficient for the present to touch 
only upon my Immediate past. 


2 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


For reasons in no wise bearing upon this story, though 
closely connected with a woman, I had given up the prac- 
tice of the law in a New England city for the freer life of 
a ranchman. Please accept the fact that I had embarked 
in my new career on the eve of a phenomenal rise in cat- 
tle, and that, the profits continuing large, I had found 
after a few years a small inheritance developed into a con- 
siderable fortune. Please accept the fact that 1 had there- 
upon sold out my interest, and, turning my face to the 
New-World Mecca for hastily acquired riches, I arrived 
in New York one bright spring afternoon, with the object 
of enjoying that rest and recreation which my struggles 
with the world had prevented my indulging in before. 
Please accept the fact, however, that I had not a 
single friend or acquaintance that I knew of in the city, 
and that, save for one brief sojourn, I had never visited the 
city before. 

I am a firm believer in presentiment. The curious fea- 
ture about presentiments, however, is that they seldom, if 
ever, serve to forestall the trouble they anticipate. I re- 
member the most prosaic incidents connected with my 
arrival here : that I had a slight chill driving down from 
the station, that the columns of the porch of the hotel 
where I descended looked dark and forbidding and, lastly, 
that the fac- simile of the great fist of the Statue of 
Liberty, then temporarily ornamenting Madison Square, 
seemed veritably holding up its torch in warning. In 
short, I had that strained sensation of intensity they say 
men have when entering battle, when on the eve of a duel, 
or when merely about to get married. 

I suppose it is because of some such psychological con- 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


3 


ditions as these that we get the expression ‘‘Coming 
events cast their shadows before.’* 

I am half a philosopher and half a fatalist. I tried to 
throw off my vague feelings of oppression, of an approach- 
ing horror, of something unwonted, something that had 
perhaps never occurred to any man before ; and by dint 
of a fair bottle of champagne (oh, that cursed bottle! 
without it I would have taken the first train back to the 
West) and a contemplative cigar, I at last succeeded fairly 
well ; indeed, so rehabilitated did I feel that I resolved to 
venture abroad. I would not be prisoned by my fears, 
but would, on the contrary, go forth and beard this myste- 
rious lion of my fancy. I sauntered out into the streets; I 
wandered down Broadway; I began to smile to myself at 
the folly of indulginginsuch fears, and had actually begun 
to notice the changes four years had made in the metropolis 
when my Nemesis came upon me and consumed me. 

I was crossing a square, one of those numerous ones 
gridironed with car-tracks. There was a street-car be- 
fore me, one behind me, one on each side of me, and one 
exactly opposite me which had stopped just in front 
of my path, as horse-cars will. Indeed, in this age 
of general criticism I wish some one would raise up 
his voice in indignant protest against horse-cars. We are 
tyrannized by horse-cars, we are metaphorically ground 
down under their iron wheels ; always full when we want 
to use them, always in our way when we don’t, they pos- 
sess but a single recommendation — namely, their divi- 
dends, which, alas ! are held in too few hands. Suffice it 
to say I was compelled to stop, and, being so near this 
particular horse-car, it was only natural that I should assist 


4 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


a lady who was struggling to reach its rear platform. In 
some ways I am a weak man, perhaps a not altogether 
unsusceptible one. I don’t mean to say by this that I 
would not assist a stout or an old and ugly lady, too, but 
what I mean is that I would instinctively help a pretty 
and a young woman more readily than an ugly or an old 
one. It takes less power of the will to do so, and comes, 
I am loath to confess it, quite naturally. 

This woman was neither ugly nor old; I could tell it by 
the sweep of her dress, the contour of her cheek, and the 
turn of her ankle as her foot lightly touched the step. 
Well, I helped her to the platform, and she turned to 
thank me. Great heavens ! shall I ever forget the 
change that came over her face as her eyes met mine ? 
It must have been rapid, but it seemed an eternity, so 
marked was each phase of her emotions from surprise to 
conviction. It fascinated me. A bright, sparkling face she 
had, now that it was turned fully towards me, but becom- 
ing pale, her eyes growing more fixed and glassy as she 
regarded me from the rear platform of the horse-car, that 
had got blocked and could not or would not move on. It 
was a green horse-car — its very color is indelibly impressed 
upon my memory, and even the face of the conductor, as, 
with hand uplifted to the strap, he stood a little behind 
ber. Why should she look at me in that bewildered man- 
ner ? Why should she display such astonished surprise ? 
These half-queries floated through my mind as her gaze 
rooted me to the pavement. Then, the horse-car suddenly 
starting ahead, I heard a suppressed cry, and either losing 
her balance, she fell forward, or half threw herself into my 
arms. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


5 


With the advance of the horse-car lately before me, all 
the other horse-cars began to move, and with them the 
heterogeneous crowd of vehicles constituting the blockade. 

What could I do ? I could not deposit my fair burden 
in the street. I could not run after the horse-car with 
her in my arms. I consequently bore her to the sidewalk, 
as much for her own protection against the feet of pranc- 
ing horses and the wheels of. carriages as for my own. I 
would have borne her to the nearest shop on the corner 
had I not unfortunately caught sight of a druggist’s in the 
middle of the block. Thither I conveyed her, followed 
by the usual rabble that any accident or excitement in 
the street causes to rise up as if by the magician’s wand. 
On reaching our destination I called for a glass of water 
and pressed it to her lips. Then she revived, and, slowly 
opening her eyes, “O George !” she exclaimed, “have 
I found you at last ?” 

“ My name is neither George, ’ I returned, “ nor have 
I any right to suppose you have been seeking me for any 
extended period.’’ 

In the meanwhile the people who had followed us be- 
gan pushing into the shop just as such people will. 

Now, as of all things in the world I most detest a 
sensation, I briefly explained the matter to the drug- 
gist and turned to leave. As I got near the door, 
however, she half rose from the chair on which I had 
placed her. 

“O good friends, follow him !” she cried. “ Find out 
where he lives; he will desert me again ! Help ! He is 
my husband !” 

To arrive in a city whither one has come to secure 


6 


THE romance of AN ALTER EGO. 


rest and enjoyment, and to be claimed as the husband 
of a young woman one has picked up, so to speak, in 
the street, is what the French might call a mauvaise 
plaisanterie. 

I went back to the shopman, repeated with greater em- 
phasis the exact particulars of the case, and was annoyed 
to perceive that he accepted my version rather doubtfully. 

“ Do you mean to imagine,” I inquired hotly, that I 
am really anything to this lady, that I am actually her 
husband ? Why, I never laid my eyes on her before five 
minutes ago. My name is Aaron Simoni,” I continued, 
“ and I only arrived in New York this very afternoon." 

“ Don’t let him leave," cried the lady excitedly. “ Fol- 
low him ! call an officer !” 

Then, with that readiness to protect a female which 
Americans always evince, the bystanders stepped forward 
with one accord as a volunteer force in her service. I 
shook myself free of them. It was too irritating, I even 
assumed a bellicose attitude with my umbrella. 

At last a policeman, attracted by the commotion, pre- 
sented himself, and the lady, drawing him to one side, pre- 
disposed him in her favor by telling him her story first, 
whereupon he attempted to collar me somewhat roughly. 

'‘Now look here, officer!" I exclaimed, “this woman 
has made an egregious blunder; she takes me for her hus- 
band, but I swear I have never laid my eyes on her, before 
a few minutes ago, in my life.” 

Again and again I reiterated my statement to the police- 
man, as I had done to the druggist, and I even reiterated 
it to the bystanders, who by this time quite filled up the 
shop. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


7 


'‘It’s a very queer case,” observed the policeman 
dubiously, influenced at last by my repeated assurances. 

“ Lynch him!” (meaning me), exclaimed a belligerent 
gentleman with a red face and green spectacles. 

“ Oh, for shame !” remarked another, “ to desert your 
own wife.” 

“ But she isn’t my wife, damn her !” I cried, with justi- 
fiable warmth. 

“ Oh ! oh ! oh !” from a woman with a limp baby in her 
arms and a crumpled bonnet on her head. “ Look, baby ” 
(to her offspring), “ look at the ogre. What would ’oo think 
if 'oo’s papa treated 'oo’s mamma like that?” Whereupon 
the baby began to howl piteously and to excite the public 
temper more against me than ever. 

By this time the interior of the shop, as I have said, was 
not only thronged, but the sidewalk immediately in front 
of the shop was thronged too, while a compact mass of 
faces in rows, one above another, were pressed against the 
large window-pane ; faces of all descriptions they were, 
of all ages, both sexes, and of every rank, peering in, with 
an imperfect knowledge of what was going on inside 
affecting the features of each face. 

Up to this moment my only thought had been to es- 
cape quietly ; perceiving that this could be no longer 
effected, I turned again to the policeman. 

“lam stopping at the Madison Park Hotel,” I said, 
“ and if you will call a cab and get me out of this, we can 
drive there and my statements will be confirmed.” Then 
I slipped a “tenner ” into his hand, and, clearing the way 
for me, he ushered me into a hansom which had consider- 
ately stopped opposite the door to give the driver a sort of 


8 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


gallery view of the spectacle going on inside the shop. In- 
stead of following me into the vehicle, however, the police- 
man asked me to wait for him a moment until he went 
back and spoke to the lady again. 

I could not have escaped had I tried, the crowd was 
so dense, and was pressing about the vehicle to such an 
extent, surveying me with the peculiar curiosity people 
evince for the perpetrator of some extraordinary and out- 
rageous crime. One person actually reached over, and, 
as if to show his sense of indie^nant condemnation, prodded 
me with his stick, while a small boy, slyly biding his op- 
portunity, pinched me in the leg. 

At last the officer returned, and we started off at a pace 
to distance all but the most athletic pursuers. 

It was not a long drive to the hotel, though it seemed 
to be, the nature of the vehicle showing me off to such 
advantage, and the horrid beast in buttons at my side. 

We arrived at our destination without further adven- 
ture, but, as I ought to have realized, the clerks were un- 
able to give any information as to my antecedents, nor 
were my letters and papers sufficient to satisfy the up- 
holder of the law. Consequently he insisted that I should 
accompany him to the police station in his precinct, where 
he informed me that he had told the lady he would convey 
me should he fail to be convinced as to my identity at the 
hotel. Here I was to await any charges she might bring 
against me. Here I did wait, indulging in the ardent 
hope that she might never appear. But she came at 
last. 

How I hated and abhorred her as she stood up there 
before the sergeant at his desk, so coolly, so flagrantly 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


9 


making her accusations! I had .ample time to study her. 
Of a bright and sparkling beauty, as I have intimated, she 
was faultlessly attired, and was just a shade under the aver- 
age height. As she went on, I could see that she was emo- 
tional by nature, and she spoke with a rising fervor that 
at times was almost sufficient to persuade me of her sin- 
cerity. I attributed it to her skill as an actress. She was 
a most accomplished adventuress, I thought. 

She described herself as Edna Dalzelle, twenty-two 
years of age, and occupying a flat in an apartment house 
known as the Washington, on West Twenty-third street ; 
stating that in the summer of ’83 — namely, some four 
years ago — during a visit to Newport, her youthful affec- 
tions were betrayed into a clandestine marriage by a man 
named Fitzamble, whose acquaintance she had made at 
the Ocean House, where they had both been stopping ; 
that immediately after the ceremony he had conducted her 
to New York, and arriving here, without explanation or ex- 
cuses, he had abruptly deserted her, leaving her to return 
heartbroken and alone to her father ; that from that time 
she had never laid eyes on him until half an hour ago, when 
he (I) had helped her into a street-car, I being the errant 
Fitzamble I 1 ! 

“ Have you anything to say, Fitzamble ?” observed the 
sergeant, looking over at me severely. 

“I have only to say that I never heard the name of 
Fitzamble before in my life !” I exclaimed indignantly; 
“ that I never was in Newport in my life, that I never 
saw this lady before some fifty minutes ago” (looking at 
my watch), “ and that I am no more her husband than 
you are yourself.” 


TO 


THE ROMANCE OP AN ALTER EGO. 


“ Look out, look out, sir!” — from the desk. “ I can 
hold you for disorderly conduct.” 

“ Oh, spare him !” cried the lady, clasping her hands. 
“ I only wish him to come back to me, sir, and to recog- 
nize me. Think what it is, sir, to have gone through what 
I have done these past four years !” 

“ Stand up nearer here. Fitzamble. Do you mean to say 
you are not married to this young lady ?” 

“ I mean to say that I will have this whole affair sifted 
if it costs me every penny I possess in the world.” 

The sergeant appeared perplexed. “Well, madam,” 
he at last remarked, turning to my claimant, “ though 
he seems obstinate, I can hardly hold him on the charge 
you make. If you desire it, however, I will lock him up 
over-night for creating a disturbance in the street.” 

“ Never ! never !” interjected the lady. “I will not sub- 
ject him to such an indignity as that.” 

“ And in the morning,” continued the sergeant, heed- 
less of the interruption, “you can get the necessary pa- 
pers from the civil court to secure his attendance at a trial 
to establish your marital rights,” 

At the close of this speech she approached me. 

“ I will make a last appeal to him,” she said. “ O 
George, why will you persist in this denial ? Have you 
not injured me sufficiently already ? I ask nothing of you 
beyond recognition. I have means amply sufficient for 
us both. O George, was it because you thought I didn't 
care for you that you deserted me ? Was it because of 
those odious officers at the fort who would persist in danc- 
ing with me ?” 

“ Madam, I think this farce has gone about far 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


II 


enough,” I retorted. I am unaware of what your motives 
may be, but I wish to have no trouble with you, and I tell 
you quite candidly that if you persist in your schemes 
you will find me a man not easily to be blackmailed.” 

‘‘Blackmailed!” she cried, throwing up her hands in 
well-feigned horror. “ And have I only found you to have 
you accuse me of a crime like that?*' 


IL 

I DROVE away in a state of bewilderment only secondary 
to my irritation. 

At last, however, the very extravagance of the situation 
appealed to me, and I actually began to laugh. Never- 
theless it was temporarily an awkward predicament. I 
had no one to advise me, as I was without a single friend 
or acquaintance in the city. On thinking over the matter 
I decided to call upon the proprietor of my hotel in my 
emergency, and lay the whole case before him. This 1 
did, and he immediately gave me the address of a Mr. 
Slocum, as the best lawyer he could think of to advise 
me in my scrape. 

Although business hours were by this time long over, 
1 was sufficiently fortunate to find this gentleman at his 
house, and recounted to him my singular adventure. 

At first he laughed heartily. When, in reply to his 
questions, however, I told him of my residence in the 
West, and further that I had visited New York, curiously 
enough, at a period about contemporaneous with the mar- 
riage of the errant Fitzamble, I could see that the case 
assumed a more suspicious aspect in his eyes. 

“ I fear I must ask you to acquaint me with your past 
history," he observed. “I must know a little more of your 
family and antecedents. I don’t wish to be inquisitive, 
my dear sir. but T must be fully informed about you to be 
in a position to help you.” 


12 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO 


13 


‘‘To begin at the very beginning, then,” I said, “my 
family is of Italian extraction, but, to distinguish me as a 
true-born son of America, my father named me Aaron. 
The combination is not a particularly happy one, but, as I 
had no hand in the matter, you must not hold me respon- 
sible. Towards the close of the year 1865 my mother 
and myself left the quiet village in Pennsylvania where I 
was born, and moved to Vermont, my father having died 
under somewhat painful circumstances.” 

“ How so ?” 

“Well, I had an only brother, who was rather wild 
and unmanageable ; he quarreled with my father, and the 
war, with its keen excitements, being upon the country, he 
ran away, enlisted in the Union army, and lost his life under 
Grant in the Wilderness. He was a mere boy at the time. 
The news of his death quite broke my father up, for he 
died shortly after. It broke up our home, too, as I have 
intimated, for my mother married again and moved with 
me to Vermont because her second husband’s home was 
there ; here I studied law, and had just been admitted to 
the bar when my mother herself died. Though she left 
me sufficient to live on in a small way, I continued to 
work at my profession, and was, indeed, making a small 
income as a lawyer, when I became involved with a lady 
who, suffice it to say, made my life wretched. Thereupon 
I threw up the law, and, forsaking civilization, started in 
the business of raising cattle out West, which I found, as 
luck would have it, far more profitable and more to my 
taste than Blackstone. While out there I came East only 
once — namely, to New York to collect some moneys that 
were due me in part payment for a herd of catf.Ie I 


14 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


had sold in the yards of Chicago — and though I only 
intended stopping here a week, I was detained five.” 

“And you say this visit to New York was just four 
years ago ?” 

I nodded my head in the affirmative. 

“ It’s an odd coincidence, particularly as it would make 
your return to the West so near the time this Fitzamble, 
as you say, deserted his wife.” 

“ But what makes it stranger,” I added reflectively, “ is 
that, as far as I could make out from the woman’s allega- 
tions, the commencement of her acquaintance with this 
Fitzamble must have followed within two weeks or so of 
my arrival, too. The cause of my detention was the diffi- 
culty I experienced in making my collections, and, indeed, 
I was at last compelled to leave without getting my money 
after all.” 

“ By the way, what was the date of your marriage with 
this woman ?” the lawyer asked quickly. 

“ With which woman? Oh! I see, you want to catch 
me. I swear before the Lord Almighty I was never mar- 
ried to any woman in my life 1” 

Mr. Slocum became lost for a moment in thought — 

“ Well,” he exclaimed at last, I will believe your 
statements.” 

Then he promised to have all the particulars about rny 
supposititious wife (through the medium of a detective 
agency) at my disposal on the following day, and, further, 
to defend me should she have the effrontery to bring the 
case into the courts. Thereupon I retired, and to take 
my thoughts from the topic of my disagreeable adventure 
I went to the theatre, and in due course of time after- 
wards I found myself in bed. 


III. 


I OVERSLEPT myself the next morning, for it was past 
ten o’clock when I was awakened by a loud knocking at 
my door. 

“The gent says he will wait at the office till you 
come down,” a hall-boy informed me through the 
key-hole; then he slipped a visiting card under the sill 
and departed. I got up and examined the pasteboard. On 
it was the name of Henry T. Dalzelle, and in one corner, 
“Fine Champagnes, Burgundies, and other Imported 
Wines.” 

So this was a member of the family come to see me al- 
ready. What right had he to call upon me at all ? My 
first instinct was to send him down word to go to the devil. 
Curiosity, however, got the better of my temper, and I re- 
solved to have a look at him. I am a good judge of char- 
acter, and I thought perhaps I might gain through him an 
insight into the kind of people these were who claimed 
me. 

I dressed myself leisurely, indulging in a good tub of 
cold water, according to my wont, as a healthy sustainer 
through a possibly awkward interview, and descended the 
stairs. At the office I found a little old gentleman with 
iron-gray hair well brushed forward. Before I could ob- 
ject, he was shaking hands with me effusively as if I were 
his long-lost son. At last, apparently becoming aware of 

15 


1 6 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

a slight incongruity in his conduct, he drew himself back 
with an air of reserve - 

“ Before I go any further,” he observed with dignity, 
‘‘ I ought to know, sir, what you propose doing ?” 

“ Doing about what?” I asked obtusely. 

“Why, about my daughter.” 

“ Would you mind coming up-stairs to the ladies’ par- 
lor?” I said, fearful of having another crowd congregate 
about us. 

He followed me up, and I led him to a retired corner. 
Then I turned upon him fiercely: 

“ Now, what is your motive, sir, in all this business?” 

“ My motive, sir, is to right my daughter !” he ex- 
claimed with equal decision. ‘‘ After a brief courtship of 
two weeks you inveigled a motherless girl into a clandes- 
tine marriage and then basely deserted her. Now, sir, I 
don’t wish all this to get into the papers, so I have come to 
talk over the matter with you calmly, and see whether you 
have a spark of gentlemanly instinct in you, or whether you 
are really the scoundrel your actions would indicate.” 

His show of sincerity provoked me. 

“ Damn it all !” I cried, “I don’t wish to reite.rate my 
statements. I have no doubt you believe what you say, 
but your allegations don’t refer to me. You are eminently 
respectable people, I have no doubt, and I will give you 
the credit to suppose you have merely made a mistake in 
my identity.” 

The old gentleman interrupted me by energetically 
hammering the floor with his cane. “ Well,” he said, “ if 
you persist in that line of defense, we will bring it into 
the courts, sir, and prove it,” 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


17 


will be hard to prove that I’m some one else than 
myself,” I retorted. 

“We’ll see about that,” he replied, with more haste than 
logic ; ‘‘ my testimony is worth something, sir. Why, I 
recognized you the instant I laid my eyes upon you.” 

“But did you recognize me as Aaron Simoni?” I 
asked. 

“ Aaron Simoni is an assumed name. Who ever heard 
of such a name in real life ?” 

“ I will not deny,” I observed, a little taken aback, “ but 
that the combination is a peculiar one ; indeed, my dear 
sir, it is such a peculiar one that if I had been adopting a 
name I would have tried something far better. Now do 
be rational,” I continued, seeing him grow again excited. 
“ So little do I know of all this business that I am 
actually ignorant of the exact circumstances of your 
daughter’s marriage. Tell me the particulars in full, and 
I will endeavor to prove to your entire satisfaction the ex- 
travagance of your position.” 

“ I will say nothing,” replied the old gentleman, shut- 
ting up like an opera-hat. “ I have already taken legal 
advice on the subject, and you will hear from us be- 
fore long.” Then he departed, and I could hear him go 
stamping down the stairs. 


IV. 


A SHORT time after, a few lines came from my lawyer 
stating that he would see me at two o’clock, and 
somewhat impatiently I awaited his coming. 

Punctual to the minute he presented himself, armed 
with the particulars which he had promised me. 

His information quickly dispelled any lingering doubts 
I might have had that the situation was simply a case 
of mistaken identity. 

While not belonging to what is known as fashion- 
able society, they were in every way respectable people, 
comfortably circumstanced so far as worldly goods went, 
if not rich ; the father, a wholesale wine merchant 
— a profession which is now getting to be held as 
almost an aristocratic one — owning a large apartment 
house in a first-rate street. On one floor of this he 
resrided with his daughter, who was his only child, and who 
was allowed, if report spoke true, the gratification of 
every whim by her too indulgent parent. 

“ Such, my friend, are the persons you have to deal 
with — mistaken, to be sure, but responsible, high-principled 
people in every way as far as I can learn, undoubtedly 
believing, too, in the justice of their own position. Your 
visit to New York from the West just about the time of 
the marriage makes it slightly awkward, but all you will 

i8 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


^9 


have to do is to prove who you are, and that ought to 
settle the matter.” 

“ There are plenty of people whom I could get to 
prove who I am, and even if there weren’t I could easily 
prove I w^as never called Fitzamble,” I added, with a 
shudder. “ But what line of action is open to her should 
she actually make a case of it and bring it into the 
courts? You see I am a little rusty in my law.” 

“Well, there are several lines,” he observed re- 
flectively. “ First, she could sue you for desertion and 
failure to support; or she might give an order to some 
prominent tradesman and have the bill sent in to you, 
and let him sue you for payment; or she might sue for 
divorce and alimony.” 

“ Under no circumstances could she force me to live 
with her, could she ?” I inquired, with a vague dread. 

At this moment we were disturbed by a slight com- 
motion in the hall outside, followed by a knock at the 
door. I rose to answer the summons, when a servant 
announced, “ Mrs. George Henry Fitzamble.” 

I may as well state here that my suite contained a draw- 
ing-room (in which I was seated with m^y lawyer), and as it 
was into this room that she entered, her visit was robbed 
of any lack of delicacy. 

On the retirement of her conductor she threw aside 
her veil, and brushed back the dark, rippling hair that 
struggled outside her bonnet. 

“ Forgive me,” she said at last, for the abrupt man- 
ner with which I recalled myself to your recollection yester- 
day. Forgive me, sir,” turning to the lawyer, “ for thrust- 
ing my private affairs upon a stranger. But what else can 


20 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


I do when he ” (pointing in my direction), “ my own hus- 
band, refuses to have anything to do with me ?” 

Tears were in her eyes, and I am bound to confess 
they added to the beauty of the hazel orbs. 

“What would you have me do?” she went on, now looking 
at me. “ Calmly sit down under my indignity ? Suppose 
I had deserted you, how would you have felt ? Suppose — ” 
“ Madam,” I interrupted, “ I fully recognize the hard- 
ships of your experiences; I take back any reference I made 
yesterday at improper motives; I will further admit that 
this Fitzamble is an unconscionable brute and in every 
way unworthy of you; but — ’’ 

“ Oh, isn’t it terrible !’’ she interrupted me to ex- 
claim, bursting into angry tears, as she again addressed the 
lawyer — “isn’t it terrible for him to treat me in this man- 
ner ! If he said he didn’t care for me, if he would only 
frankly state that he did not wish to recognize me ! ! ! ” 
The lawyer (my lawyer) was evidently soft-hearted. I 
could see that he was affected — confound him! — I could 
even see that it required a moral struggle for him to 
continue to believe my assertions of innocence. Being 
appealed to, he hemmed and hawed. 

Like a woman, she basely took advantage of his dis- 
comfiture and redoubled her tears. 

“ Perhaps I’d better leave you to talk over the mat- 
ter together,” he exclaimed. 

“ Now look here,” I broke out impulsively, “I have 
nothing to talk over with this ^ady. I could only reiter- 
ate and reiterate statements I have by this time grown sick 
of making.” 

“ But this is the basest, the meanest defense to adopt. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


21 


I would rather that you struck me, that you reviled me ! 
By thus denying your identity you deprive me of mine; 
for if you are not George Fitzamble, who am I ?” 

The lawyer raised his hands above his head. “ Well,” 
he exclaimed weakly, “ of all cases this is the most ex- 
traordinary !” 

“ Say the most cruel ! the most revoltingly cruel !” 
she retorted; “ for I only ask recognition.” 

“ But, madam, to recognize you is equivalent to con- 
fessing myself some one else than I am.” 

“ Will you deny that you are now under an assumed 
name ?” she asked. 

“ Most assuredly I will.” 

“ Then you were under an assumed name when you 
married me.” 

“ I never married you at all.” 

“Why this long absence, then, if it were not to get 
away from me ?” 

I was about to enter into the full particulars of my re- 
turn to the West after my visit to New York, when I de- 
tected my lawyer (at last recalled to his allegiance) mak- 
ing a series of pantomimic signals to me over her 
head. 

“ Ah ! I have caught you at it,” she cried, detecting 
his gestures in the reflection of a mirror. 

“ I see, sir, you are in league with this gentleman in 
his conspiracy against me. Very well; I can say nothing 
more. I have appealed to you ” (turning to me), “as a 
loving and affectionate woman ought. I have thrown 
myself on your generosity; I find you have none. You 
persist in refusing to acknowledge the bonds you made 


22 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


me enter, I must, therefore, seek the assistance of the 
courts to right me.” 

She drew her proud little figure up with the dignity of 
a queen and swept out of the room. 

I collapsed on the sofa, the lawyer drew a long “whew’’ 
and looked at me again with the same old doubtful ex- 
pression. 

“Would you mind my ringing the bell for a brandy- 
and-soda ?” he asked at last. 


A FEW hours after the departure of my lawyer, a formal 
looking bundle of papers were served upon me by a couple 
of deputy sheriffs with an order of arrest fixing my bail 
at five thousand dollars. 

Fortunately I had deposited with the clerk in the office 
a hundred shares of railroad stock which, having risen be- 
yond what I considered its fair value, I had intended sell- 
ing at the first opportunity. Making this over to the pro- 
prietor as security, I persuaded him to accompany me 
to the sheriff’s office and sign the necessary papers. 
Thus I was relieved of the unwelcome presence of the 
two deputies, who had stuck to me like a double shadow 
until that formality was gone through. 

The last move on the part of my would-be wife did 
not tend to raise her in my esteem. I saw that she 
actually proposed to make a laughing-stock of me before 
the whole world; that I was to become a scapegoat for 
the sins of the errant Fitzamble. What cursed perver- 
sity of fate should bring her across my path just as I was 
about to secure a little quiet enjoyment out of life? 
Less my bonds than my outraged sense of justice pre- 
vented my taking flight instanter. But I would stick it out 
coute qui coutey That her allegations would result in a 
lawsuit I had now no right to doubt. No substantiation of 
my identity, no allegation as to my celibacy, but only 

23 


24 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

the public tribunals would convince her that 1 was not her 
own. Indeed, I had a presentiment that if one court 
should decide against her she would carry the case up 
and up, and would never desist till the highest tri- 
bunal had passed judgment on her claim ; that is 
the way her determination of character impressed me, 
and yet I had a lingering belief that the case from 
its very extravagance could hardly ever be brought 
seriously into court. 

That a foolish girl should be induced by a design- 
ing scoundrel to give him her hand after a brief court- 
ship of two weeks was natural enough — a girl without the 
guiding influence of a mother to warn her against chance 
acquaintances picked up in a hotel corridor, and presum- 
ably allowed by a weak father an inordinate freedom of 
action. All this was quite natural, as I say; further, 
too, that for some reasons best known to himself her 
bridegroom of a day should desert her. It was also 
within the bounds of possibility that four years* separa- 
tion might have blurred on her memory the exact person- 
ality of a lover whom she had known for so short a time, 
but the idea of a woman collaring a man on the open 
street, even supposing a slight resemblance, was simply 
monstrous. 

Convinced of the force of my own position, and of the 
general axiom that truth would eventually triumph over 
her distraught imagination, I allowed matters to run along, 
and it was not till ten days after the papers had been 
served on me that, at the earnest solicitation of my 
lawyer, I proceeded to rake up out of the past such of 
my old acquaintances as I could lay hands on, and who 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


25 


were willing to come to New York and to swear both to 
my identity and to my high moral character. De- 
sirous of settling the matter quietly, I insisted that 
they should have an interview with the lady, nat- 
urally supposing that as soon as she was confronted 
with them she would immediately relinquish her 
pretensions. Rash hope ! She rebutted their evidence 
by maintaining that while I might be all that they repre- 
sented, they failed to show that I might not have adopted 
the name of Fitzamble for the purpose of deception, and 
have married her under an alias. 

This immediately placed the case in a more serious 
light, and gave to it an air of greater probability. It was 
not sufficient to demonstrate the fact that I was not 
George Fitzamble, but that I was, on the contrary, Aaron 
Simoni. Indeed, I could argue as much as I liked that my 
name generally had been Aaron Simoni, that my real 
name in truth was such, but to prove thafcfor a brief period 
of two weeks I had not indulged in the luxury of calling 
myself Fitzamble and marrying her under a pseudonym 
was a different matter, involving no change of person- 
ality, but only of designation. 

By an extreme piece of ill-luck, too, the register of the 
hotel where I had stayed four years ago during my 
brief visit in New York had been destroyed by a fire, while 
the name of Fitzamble was found in bold, aggressive 
penmanship in the record of the hotel at Newport where I 
went to look at it. The date of his arrival, too, at that 
great watering place fell within the period of my sojourn in 
New York. This was really all they had to base their case 
on — a mere coincidence of time. And yet to show that 


26 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


during my stay in New York I had not visited Newport 
for two brief weeks out of the five was as difficult as to 
refute their charges that during that same period I had 
called myself by a name other than my own. 

Take any two weeks four years back in your own life, 
and try to prove that you have not visited some spot as 
closely adjoining New York as Newport. Probably your 
letters would establish the fact where you had been, or a 
review of your business or social engagements. In my 
case, however, I had been merely a visitor in New York. 
The nature of my affairs had involved the writing of only 
a few letters, the recipients of which I would now very 
likely search for in vain. My correspondence, such as it 
was, had been on the subject of the payment to me of 
certain sums of money that were due me. The parties 
in question proving irresponsible, and having further dis- 
appeared, could hardly be expected now to come for- 
ward, even if they knew of my search for them, and sus- 
tain me in a position that would again open up their 
indebtedness. I had corresponded with no one else 
than these people, and had consulted no lawyer in the 
matter. Under these circumstances there only re- 
mained to unearth Fitzamble. But how could this be 
accomplished ? Though I foresaw that I might incur addi- 
tional notoriety for myself by advertising, there was no 
other course open. Each day, therefore, notices were in- 
serted in the papers addressed to the hated Fitzamble, 
praying him, under one guise or another, to come back. 
With a deceitfulness warranted alone by the straits I was 
in, he was assured that if he would return he would find 
something very much to his advantage awaiting him. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


27 


Fitzamble was appealed to on every score that could 
move or tempt humanity, but still the real Fitzamble 
lay low. Fictitious Fitzambles presented themselves, it 
is true, in great numbers — Fitzambles who were willing to 
play the role of Fitzamble for a consideration. Indeed, 
the entire population of the United States seemed to my 
excited fancy made up of Fitzambles, with only the real 
one lacking. Fitzamble remained where he was in the 
great mystery of obscurity, or, less poetically stated, like a 
fox, close in his hole. To make matters worse, the opinion 
began to grow more confirmed in my mind, as time ad- 
vanced, that my lawyer in spite of the great reputation 
that he bore, was a nincompoop. He had allowed me to 
slide into a more serious position than there had been any 
need of, and under the growing conviction that he had be- 
trayed his incapacity to the other side and that they had 
taken advantage of it, I grew positively to dislike him, ex- 
aggerating even his physical defects. He seemed smaller, 
his eyes redder and more beady, his nose more pointed, 
"and a habit of closing one eye and of looking around his 
nose grew more pronounced. In doing this he would 
wrinkle his nose protestingly, and he would only resort to 
this trick when you would think, on the contrary, he ought 
to show encouragement and approval of some sagacious 
proposition that you might have laid before him. Al- 
together it was the most provoking habit I ever observed, 
and I think it was growing on him with the progress of the 
case. Circumstances, however, had gone too far to attempt 
any change ; I might make a worse selection, and he was 
at all events honest. What he was not, albeit, was quick, 
and he had a perverse softness or weakness of disposition 


28 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


that inclined me to believe that his sympathies, at all 
events, were enlisted on the other side. Poor man, pos- 
sibly I did him injustice; if so it must be attributed to the 
nervous, irritable condition into which my extraordinary 
adventure had thrown me. 

Indeed, it is a curious reflection on human nature that 
when we look back on any critical period in our lives, the 
small and trivial circumstances are the principal things re- 
membered. The trifles, so to speak, become important, 
and the great things trifles. Thus the contemptible mi- 
nutiae I have enumerated all come back to me now, while 
the important events of that period, such as the prepara- 
tions for the suit, the interviews with my witnesses, the 
sifting of their testimony, the long talks v/ith my counsel, 
are blurred and indistinct as if written in smoke. I can 
scarcely remember the day or the month the trial itself 
opened. All I remember is that it was an insufferably 
hot day, with one of those bright, lurid suns in the sky 
that seem to mock you and to render infinitely insignifi- 
cant so trivial a circumstance as the bartering away of a 
human being’s freedom. She, however, as she sat listen- 
ing to her counsel opening her case, is always before me, 
and again, in due process of time, when she took the wit- 
ness chair and testified in her own behalf. Indeed, her 
every word and gesture are burnt as with aquafortis in 
my memory, and stand out like phosphorescent letterings 
on the wall of time. 


VI. 


To PASS over the circumstances with which the reader 
is already familiar, I will briefly state that in reviewing 
her troubles she described the personality and the lan- 
guage of her betrayer till he seemed a very photograph 
of myself ; recounting how he had represented himself as 
a man of wide travel, and alluding to the glowing terms 
in which he had spoken of the beauty and the fragrance 
of the South, where he professed to have passed much 
of his time. She further explained that he had hinted 
that his youth had been a saddened one, and that the 
latter years of his life were shrouded in a mystery he would 
one of these days unfold ; showing how his tale had en- 
listed her girlish sympathy, until he had overcome her 
reluctance and finally persuaded her into the necessity of 
an immediate and secret marriage. Next, and with the 
simplicity of a child, she went on to describe their walks 
along the cliffs when the moon touched the waves with 
silver ; or their long drives far away from the meretri- 
cious glitter of the great national watering-place, where 
peaceful lanes and quiet farmhouses seemed to whisper 
eternal repose. 

The unnatural excitement that I had noticed in her be- 
fore had given way to a warm and sensuous mysticism. 
There was an artlessness about her testimony, too, and be- 
sides this a certain picturesqueness that appealed to my 
imagination in spite of myself, that affected the judge and 

29 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


30 

the jury, as I could perceive, and predisposed them against 
me. Indeed, I may as well say here, and I leave it to 
the records of our tribunals generally to bear me out, that 
a man, never mind how just may be his case, stands a 
very poor show before an American jury where a pretty 
woman is concerned. I don’t care what the question at 
issue may be, whether you are involved in a suit for a 
breach of promise to marry, or merely in one with your 
laundress for washing your handkerchiefs, so long as it 
is with a woman, my advice to you is to fly. 

From my very first appearance in court I had recog- 
nized a certain hostility to me ; it evinced itself at every 
stage of her remarks, and particularly in describing her 
marriage and her abrupt desertion, when judge, jury, and 
audience all united in fixing upon me a glare of disappro- 
val which I found it hard to face. 

“Tell the court the exact circumstances under which 
you were deserted,” her lawyer said. 

“ We arrived in New York by the afternoon train from 
Newport,” she answered. “We drove immediately to 
Blank’s Hotel on Broadway; while I went upstair.s to 
brush off the dust of the trip, my husband stopped be- 
low to order dinner in the restaurant, promising to join 
me immediately afterwards and to bring me down. I 
never saw him again. I learned, however, that a gentle- 
man had called for him in a carriage, and that he was 
seen driving away in this carriage, presumably with his 
visitor. I returned heart-broken next morning to my 
father,” she continued, “ and from that evening till I met 
him on the street he has kept away from me. O sir!” 
(turning to the judge) “if he had simply told me that he 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


31 


did not care for me — anything else than this ! It robs me 
of my position in the world, it robs me of all” (to the 
jury) “a woman holds dearest, it robs me” (to the au- 
dience) of my right to hold up my head !” 

A sympathetic murmur followed this appeal. 

“ When he next saw you, did he try to escape from 
you, or did he act like a repentant husband ?” was asked 
by her lawyer. 

“ He tried to escape from me; he carried me into a shop, 
for I fainted in his arms, and had I not been on the alert 
he would have deserted me again!” 

Here my lawyer, the nincompoop, got up to cross- 
examine her, wrinkling his nose according to his manner 
and peeping out through his pink eyes. With incompar- 
able stupidity he blunderingly alluded to me in the course 
of his questions as Fitzamble, when the whole gist of my 
defense was to show that 1 had never been known by that 
name. A circumstance for which I now accuse him of 
even culpable negligence was his failure to press to a sat- 
isfactory answer the following statement which was reluc- 
tantly drawn from her in her cross-examination, namely : 
that she had been for some time confidently looking for- 
ward to the sudden return of her husband, and her excuse 
for doing so was that ‘ ‘ some one had told her that she 
might.” On being asked for particulars concerning this 
mysterious prophet, she answered that she was a female 
acquaintance by the name of Rebecca Seaton. Beyond 
this, however, she would say nothing more, and my law- 
yer weakly failed to press his inquiry. 

Then her father was put into the witness chair, and 
swore positively to my identity, stating that he distinctly 


32 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


remembered my attentions to his daughter, though, of 
course, at the time he was unaware that a clandestine 
marriage was to result therefrom. 

Several other witnesses for the plaintiff were called, 
who all swore to the same. The statements of the clerk 
of the hotel at Newport, however, were the most sur- 
prising. 

He said my coming to Newport was connected in 
his memory with an extensive burglary that had been com- 
mitted, a few days before my arrival, at the villa of one of 
the summer residents. He remembered to have got the 
idea that I had come to investigate this robbery from the 
fact of having once recognized in my company a detective 
whom he (the clerk) had previously known in Chicago. 
Besides the clerk, two porters swore that I had been at 
Newport, and, in addition, a chambermaid who had re- 
membered making my bed at the same hotel. 

This concluded the plaintiff’s case, and my lawyer 
thereupon addressed the jury, stating that the defense 
would consist of an attempt to prove that there was a 
mistake in my identity, and that, in short, I was not the 
person the lady pretended. When he had finished I was 
called up as a witness in my own behalf. I am quite 
aware that I cut a very poor figure as I took my seat. 

Two-thirds of the court were already against me, in- 
cluding the judge, the jury, and, I veritably believe, my 
own lawyer in addition. I was a little confused, too, and 
a sea of heads seemed to swim about me. I recovered 
myself, however, and stated with great positiveness my 
real name and the place of my birth. In reply to the 
questions of my lawyer I also entered into the reasons 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


33 


of my departure from the West, when I had originally visit- 
ed New York, and easily showed that my return to the West 
was not for flight. There remained, however, the more 
difficult fact to controvert — viz. , that while I was admitted 
by the other side to be all that I represented, I yet had not 
married her under the fictitious name of Fitzamble ; that, 
in short, I had not assumed an alias for the purpose of 
deception. 

This was the rock on which I split; for, except by my 
own unsupported denial, I was quite unable to rebut the 
evidence of the hotel servants at Newport, and particu- 
larly that of the clerk, who I really believe would next have 
made me out to have committed the burglary, had it 
not occurred several days before my supposed arrival 
there. 

The most extraordinary fact, however, going to show 
the utter unreliability of expert testimony, was the evi- 
dence of a letter proposing a rendezvous one evening 
on the hotel piazza. It was in the same bold and aggres- 
sive penmanship as I have before remarked on, and when 
it was presented to me by the lady’s lawyer T indig- 
nantly denied ever having written it. For, while I am 
not addicted to self-laudation, there is one thing I have 
always considered that I had just right to pride myself 
on — namely, my penmanship. It is neat and rounded, 
each letter distinct, though unassuming and evincing in 
its every line a much-to-be-admired modesty of character. 
An actual letter of mine, that one of my witnesses had 
fortunately preserved, was produced and compared with 
this Fitzamble letter, and yet, to my astonishment, they 
were decided to be one and the same hand. To be sure. 


34 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


it was admitted that they differed at first sight, but 
there were certain traits that proved, in spite of my denial, 
the first to have been a disguised hand. There was the 
same way of dotting thd /’s and of crossing the /’s, and 
where this manner was not distinguishable there were 
unmistakable evidences, according to the expert, of a 
studied effort to conceal it. The Fitzamble letter ran in 
this wise, and I give it for what it is worth, alongside of 
one of my own by way of comparison : 

cJ? 

fAe Aicn6.A{/ne o/ e^eA IAcA 
at ^.>^0 on tAe S. coi^nm 

tAe /tta<zyza. 

AittAe — ta co-mmancA. 


J am intending to leaite ^Aica^o 
th& te7x=thvltt^ tlatn tS4. j(i. to'=m(>iU>ta-. df 
canttenientj d (should Uke to yoa k^&fo’ie 
defialtalo, tud'ifj 

^^j4alon ^vmont. 


The idea of drinking sunshine from a woman’s eyes 
at 9.40 at night ! Leaving aside the difference in the pur- 
port of the two missives, could any greater dissimilarity 
exist than in the two handwritings ? I ask the reader 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


35 


candidly whether there is one single point of resem- 
blance. Alas ! women blind men’s eyes, and those of 
American jurors in particular. 

‘*Do you think women are good judges?” was once 
asked a distinguished wit. “I think they’re better exe- 
cutioners,” was the reply. 

When a woman is a plaintiff in a suit, she has no chance 
of becoming the executioner, the whole court are so anx- 
ious to relieve her of the mere executive duties of her 
position. 

Nevertheless I persisted in my denial of the authen- 
ticity of the letter and the truth of her statements 
generally. The expert called in on my behalf upset 
the argument about the dots over the /’s as well as the 
crosses of the /’s, and I further assured the Court that I 
had never been to Newport except once in my life — 
namely, when I had gone to look up evidence in this very 
suit. Through my lawyer I challenged any of the parties 
to prove it, and I challenged the clergyman who married 
me (a knock-kneed young man with a stiff collar and a 
Wellington nose), who finally confessed that he had mar- 
ried so many people that he could not well remember. 
I challenged, through the same medium, the hotel clerk, 
the two porters, and the chambermaid, who at last acknowl- 
edged that a very long time had expired and that they 
were not quite positive. My tale actually seemed to 
impress the jurors, and my lawyer, picking up courage, 
in his final address insisted that it was only too natural 
for the plaintiff to be mistaken after such a brief court- 
ship and so long an ensuing separation, expatiating on 
the cruelty of handing over a man to the tender mercies 


36 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


of a woman he had never so much as known. Indeed, he 
was getting along swimmingly until, carried away by his 
eloquence, I rashly rose again to assist him, and, with 
a touch of real dramatic feeling, I placed my hand on 
my heart as I said, “ Gentlemen of the jury, I am not 
the man.” 

I had put my foot in it, as is usually the case under such 
circumstances, for the lady rose too. 

“ But he is,” she interrupted. “ O gentlemen, he is the 
man. He tells you he isn’t till he makes you believe that 
he isn’t, but who is as capable of judging as I — I, his own 
wife?” 

The murmur of approval that greeted her retort could 
this time not be suppressed. From that moment I 
knew my fate was sealed. Nothing from my lawyer was 
listened to after that brief but telling ejaculation, ‘^who 
is as capable of judging as I — I, his own wife ?” Before 
this antagonism I grew sullen, and, sinking my hands in 
my trousers pockets, I resigned myself to the inevitable. 

I need only give the concluding passages of the judge’s 
charge to the jury in order to show that I was right in 
considering the case already decided against me. 

“ You will remember, gentlemen of the jury,” he said, 
‘‘that the defendant, if he be Fitzamble, has a deep inter- 
est in the outcome of this case, and this interest you must 
carefully consider when weighing his testimony. 

“ On the other hand, it is difficult to conceive that a lady 
situated as the plaintiff is could have any object in forc- 
ing a marriage upon the said defendant, unless such a 
marriage had actually occurred. You will therefore take 
the case, gentlemen, and test this evidence according to 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO, 


37 


the rules which I have laid down for your guidance. 
Bearing in mind the important effect which your verdict will 
have upon the future life of a most estimable lady, you 
will give that decision which the evidence seems to re- 
quire.” 

Thereupon the jury retired in charge of an officer sworn 
to keep them without meat or drink, save water, till a ver- 
dict was reached. 

It is needless to say after such directions from the judge 
they did not remain hungry very long, and, to draw a pain- 
ful scene to a close, I found myself charged with the sup- 
port of a wife who, but for the trial and attendant circum- 
stances, was a perfect stranger to me. 


VII. 


I LEFT the building in a frame of mind that I frankly 
confess I have no language to portray. Out I walked 
farther and farther up the main artery of this great city 
towards Central Park, where the trees and lakes promised 
alleviation to a troubled soul. 

There are spots in Central Park which are really pretty, 
spots so naturally picturesque that the people who have 
had it in charge have really, with all their efforts, been 
quite unable to deface them. In one of these places I 
threw myself down on a rustic bench. 

Was this after all to be the outcome of my career, this 
the grand climacteric of my life ? Was I to be hand- 
cuffed, chained, and shackled in a free land to a woman 
courted by another man ? How I cursed Fitzamble, Mrs. 
Fitzamble, Mr. Dalzelle, and the entire crew ! And the 
very extravagance of the situation occurring to me anew, I 
laughed out loud. People passing might well have thought 
me deranged ; I had certainly gone through enough to 
make me so, and laugh I would. Forsooth, I had won a 
wife, and he who wins may laugh. Suddenly I grew seri- 
ous. I had heard of people through some process of un- 
conscious cerebration forgetting their own identity. Could 
I have forgotten mine ? Could I really have adopted for 
those two weeks the personality of Fitzamble without 

38 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


39 


knowing it ? I went over again each separate stage in the 
trial, and measured and weighed the evidence in the light 
of this sudden reflection. In this same connection, too, 
the plot of a novel I had somewhere read recurred to my 
memory, very badly written, it is true, but of strong and 
absorbing interest. It was of a man who at stated in- 
tervals lost entire control of his memory. During these 
intervals his mind was an absolute blank, and his times of 
aberration lasted for three years each. They came on 
suddenly and without warning, and on awakening to con- 
sciousness he would pick up the thread of his last thought 
and action just exactly where he had left off, and as if 
nothing had intervened. The powerful situation in the 
romance was when he conducted his bride to her apart- 
ment in the lofty tower of his ancestral castle, and, for 
some reason (probably a deeply ingrained suspicion of the 
sex), turned upon her the key, intending to leave her but 
for a few minutes. Then occurs a lapse of memory. On 
his return to consciousness, he picks up the thread of his 
last thought, and with it presumably the key of the apart- 
ment. He mounts the stairs to the lofty turret, opens the 
door just as if he had been away but for five minutes, and 
finds a skeleton of three years in the soft bridal drapery. 

It isn’t a pretty story, far more morbid and high-strained 
than mine, for while he had lost a bride I had gained one; 
and yet, wretch that I was, I almost envied him his 
loss. 

But to return to the situation I had conjured up. Could 
I really have suffered from some such mental affliction ? 
If so, all my dramatic situations come in during the 
blank. During this aberration had I married this woman, 


40 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


and, suddenly waking, had I only then picked up the 
thread of my previous life ? So absorbed was I in the 
possibility of such an explanation of the affair that I failed 
to notice a couple of men regarding me intently; so ab- 
sorbed was I that when I rose to retrace my steps I failed 
to notice that they followed me; so absorbed was I that I 
failed to notice that they were possessed of anything but 
attractive physiognomies, and were gaining on my steps; 
so absorbed was I that, according to my wont, I was walk- 
ing quickly and therefore rapidly approaching a more 
frequented part of the Park than where I had been sitting. 
I say that I was so absorbed that I failed to notice them. 
This is scarcely accurate ; what I should say is that I 
was so preoccupied with my own thoughts that the two 
strangers made at the time no particular impression on 
me, though I remembered them distinctly afterwards, as 
I had good cause to. 

On reaching my hotel I found a swarm of reporters im- 
patiently waiting my coming. I had jumped into sudden 
notoriety. Heretofore my case had attracted compara- 
tively little attention; now it was in every one’s mouth. 
The real dramuatic character of the situation was only be- 
ginning to be appreciated. The reporters would not let 
me pass. They caught me by the sleeve, and actually by 
the skirts of my coat. I must give a detailed account of 
myself, of the trial, of my early life, “ how came I to do it, 
and what it felt like”; calling me Mr. Fitzamble as often 
as Simoni, and considering me in the light of a new acqui- 
sition for journalistic enterprise. I pushed by them; why 
shouldn’t I ? Forsooth, I was not a politician who basks 
in the light the press kindly sheds upon him ; I mounted 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


41 


to my room, I threw off my coat, and flinging myself on 
my sofa, I fell asleep. 

I awoke after some two hours’ restless tossings, with the 
feverish state of my mind but little assuaged. It was past 
seven o’clock, one of those hot, sultry evenings that June 
throws forward as a herald of the fiercer heats of August 
soon to come. I went to the window and looked out upon 
the city lying below me. I don’t know why, but there 
is always a suggestion to me of something sensual and 
voluptuous about a city at the close of a heated day — 
something of the tired, weary wanton, who, after a brief 
respite, is to bloom out again in the light of her dazzling 
jewels. The very vice and wickedness of a great city, its 
passions and its cruelty, its mystery of nameless infa- 
mies, and its bursts of generous emotions — all this is 
truly feminine, only it is of the unsexed type. 

Below me, Madison Square, with its trees and grass- 
plots, lay extended like a map in the twilight, to which the 
dust and the smoke of the great city gave a yellowish 
hue; around the square, the street lamps, touched by the 
magic wand of the lamplighter, began to twinkle one after 
another; and even as 1 gazed, the great ball of electric 
fire in the middle of the park gleamed into being like a 
freshly lighted star. I felt feverish, as I say, and yet dis- 
heartened; something like a longing suitor who wooes with- 
out hope. Men with less provocation than I had have 
leaped from lofty windows. I looked down upon the 
pavements, so cruel in their stoniness, so cold for all their 
refracted heat. I could imagine them calling and tempt- 
ing one to come. There are only two courses to pur- 
sue at such times as these; one is to accept the invitation, 


42 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


the Other is to hurry off to dinner. Of the two, I finally 
decided on the last. I dressed myself carefully, accord- 
ing to my wont, putting on, because of the heat, my sum- 
mer dress suit; I tied my tie very carefully and proceeded 
to Delmonico’s, where I usually dined. Yes, a good din- 
ner, a Delmonico dinner, is a glass through which the 
world assumes a brighter hue; each course, as a sepa- 
rate stage, lifting one nearer to the climax of a supreme 
beatitude. 

I know men who live for fame, I know men who live for 
money, I know men who live for heaven, and still others 
who live for Heaven knows w^hat, but the philosopher lives 
for that which he can taste and enjoy each day, and this 
is a good dinner. Under its benign influence our every 
sensation is quickened, and I have even heard it intimated 
that a true-born son of America experiences, after a brief 
sojourn in Europe, a greater glow of patriotic fervor on 
once more tasting terrapin than on sighting the proud 
banner of his native land. 

Be this as it may, I felt my interest in mundane affairs 
revive with the advance of my dinner, and I reviewed over 
the rim of my champagne glass, with something like 
amusement, the heterogeneous crowd that nightly as- 
sembles at Delmonico’s. 

And what an over-dressed, flash crowd they w^ere that 
surrounded me; what a perfect personification of the swell 
mob! Properly speaking, there is no society in New York; 
there are only sets, and, polyglot as its component parts 
are, there is a regular Delmonico set, as I had already 
learned, consisting for the most part of over-fed men and 
over-dressed women with a stamp of combined wealth and 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


43 


vulgarity hard to eclipse. Here was a butcher celebrated 
for the number of races he had picked up during the year; 
by his side was a lady with diamonds purer than — well, the 
French she directed at the waiter. Here was an actress 
whose success on the stage was principally due to Worth, 
and by her side a young man who ought to have been, 
where I am convinced he never had been — at school. At 
the table in the middle is the well-known couple who have 
never missed a meal here for the past ten years, and be- 
yond them a party of brokers all talking stock. But, 
hold! Where had I seen those faces before ? They were 
of two men seated at a table in a far corner, and some- 
how they gave me the impression of being equally though 
surreptitiously interested in me Though they were im- 
maculately dressed, their physiognomies were anything but 
attractive, and it struck me that when they detected me 
looking at them they slightly moved their chairs so that 
their faces became concealed. It puzzled me to think 
where I had seen them before. 

Now, I have entered into the particulars of all these 
people so as to convince the reader that my dinner was in 
no wise responsible for the events so soon to follow; that 
my mind, instead of being muddled with champagne (I 
had had but a pint), was clear and analytical, and that in 
all my life my perceptions were never keener or more 
acute. 

It was exactly forty minutes past ten when I arose from 
the table. I remember it distinctly, for I looked at my 
watch. At the door I lighted my cigar and sauntered out 
into Fifth avenue. The lights of the street lamps flickered 
feebly in the greater luminancy of the suspended ball of 


44 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


electric tire which gave that theatrical, artificial appear- 
ance to everything it fell on. In the park the benches 
were thronged with perspiring humanity, and there was a 
close stuffiness over the city well-nigh intolerable. My 
nap before dinner had forestalled any inclination to sleep, 
and as it was too late for the theatres I stood on the curb- 
stone, hesitating what to do, weighing the advisability of 
taking a cab for a drive across the suspension bridge; 
which I had been in the occasional habit of doing during 
the recent hot spell. 

I had just decided to venture on the trip, and was about 
to hail a hansom, when I felt myself touched on the arm. 
1 turned and encountered a seedy-looking man, who pre- 
sented me a letter. I opened it hastily, and in the light 
of a lamp-post read the following: 

“ If Mr. Aaron Simoni will take the 11.15 ferry-boat 
from East Thirty-fourth street to Hunter’s Point, he will 
be met on landing by a party who will put him in posses- 
sion of certain facts it might be well for him to know.” 

The missive was without signature, but was dated June 3. 

I turned for further particulars to the messenger, but 
he had disappeared. 

The letter brought my thoughts back with a jump to 
my own situation. Under ordinary circumstances I would 
have had my suspicions aroused by such a letter. Now, 
like a drowning man, I clutched at it as at a straw. Cer- 
tainly I would go; I would not leave a stone unturned in 
my efforts to discover a clue to my extraordinary predica- 
ment. 

It is a curious fact that the very moment I arrived at 
this decision the recollection of the two men I had seen 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 45 

at dinner recurred to my memory. It is a still more curi- 
ous fact that at that very moment, too, I recollected where 
I had previously seen them, and fixed them as the two 
strangers I had noticed that same afternoon in the Central 
Park. There was something suspicious about their re- 
appearance, but I could hardly connect them with the let- 
ter. All the same, a secret impulse led me to return to 
the restaurant and see whether they were still there. They 
had gone. Should I look for them in the cafe on the 
chance of their having betaken themselves thither for their 
coffee ? Bother it, no! I would miss my boat. 

As it was, I arrived late at the ferry, and had but just 
time to catch her as she left the slip. There were very 
few people on board, and these for the most part were for- 
ward. I walked through the cabins, which felt particu- 
larly close and oppressive. Forward it was hot too, since 
whatever little breeze there was came from the stern. I 
sauntered back and looked at the city, dark and mysteri- 
ous, that we were parting with. I became lost in the 
sight. New York is actually beautiful from the water, 
and especially at night. To be nearer the water I stepped 
over the guard chain which crosses each end of the boat 
to prevent vehicles from slipping over the edge, and looked 
down into the waves. I was just considering what would 
be the chances of saving a man should he fall overboard, 
when something made me look around — not so much a 
noise as a distinct sensation of approaching danger. I 
turned sharply, and saw two men just in front of me with 
both their right arms raised in the act of striking. I 
heard a sharp, whisping noise, as of something singing 
past my ear, and, forgetting my closeness to the edge of 


46 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


the boat, I sprang backwards to avoid the blow. For an 
instant I felt myself struggling in space, as the deck of the 
boat glided from under my feet, and then I experienced 
that shrinking of the stomach as I pitched down into the 
water and the dark waves closed over my head. 

I know you will scarcely believe it, but my first distinct 
reflection was, what a piece of luck my accident would be 
for the Delmonico waiter, from whom I had forgotten to 
get the change from a ten-dollar bill in payment for my 
dinner. But you see I had scarcely time to realize my 
position, the transit had been so abrupt. I had stepped 
in one quick stride from the solid deck of a steamer, from 
the brilliancy and luxury of the world, to a probable wa- 
tery grave. I was in mid-stream, anything but a good 
swimmer, with the tide running strong. I struck out 
desperately after the ferry-boat, however, and raised my 
voice for her to stop. As well cry for the moon; she went 
heartlessly, obdurately on her way, her great black body 
punctured by lights getting smaller, and the noise of her 
wheels, as they beat the water, fainter and fainter. I shall 
never forget my sense of utter desolation when I realized 
that I was deserted. Knowing how hopeless it was, be- 
cause of the current, to try and reach the shore, I threw 
myself on my back and floated, congratulating myself 
that I had put on such very thin clothes that they did not 
weigh me down. In the position I was my eyes were 
turned upwards, and I began to count the stars; and as I 
lay there a fancy I used to have in childhood came back 
to me — namely, that the stars w'ere the little children of 
the moon. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


47 


How odd that these recollections should have recurred 
to me at such a moment ! In great crises, however, the 
mind takes in little things, as I have earlier observed. By 
turning my head a little I could see the dark hulls of vessels 
lying at the docks, and the black mass of the great city, 
with its innumerable lights twinkling upon me feebly, I 
could distinctly make out, too, the ball of electric fire 
which I had seen start into life that very afternoon. What 
was life, after all? An electric spark, illuminating, or the 
reverse, a small circumference for a brief spell, and then 
snuffed out; a little spark, with a chasm of night before 
it and behind. Had my life illuminated aught ? Had it 
shed a genial radiance about it ? Oh! well, what if it 
hadn’t? It made no difference now. I was drifting on- 
wards, outwards, towards forgetfulness, the forgetfulness 
of the broad Atlantic. At the rate I was proceeding I 
would reach there in about two hours, and I began to 
take measure of my progress by objects along the shore. 
But, hark! how is this ? What I had supposed, from its 
tiers of lighted windows, to be a building, is detaching it- 
self from the land. A large factory or workshop it 
seemed, long extended rather than high. It was only a 
ferry-boat, however, that had left its slip, as I soon dis- 
covered. I watched it as it approached, its great paddles 
flapping the water with greater and growing distinctness. 
It was even coming in my direction, and I began to 
call to it and to shout. Would it pick me up ? At one 
moment I actually thought so from the course it was steer- 
ing, and I struck out in order to bring myself more across 
its path. Great heavens! It suddenly occurred to me that 
it was getting nearer than agreeable, and the noise of its 


^8 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO 

paddles actually began to deafen my ears. Then, 
because it was getting too near, I turned and swam back. 
But was I not putting myself more within its way by go- 
ing back ? Thereupon I turned about and swam forwards. 
Like a female in the path of a rapidly approaching vehi- 
cle, or, better, a wounded sea fowl that fears capture, I 
first turned one way, then the other. Could it have sin- 
gled out the small atom of my personality to overwhelm 
it ? Like a huge phantom of the night it floated down 
upon me, looming up higher and higher as it approached. 
I struck out desperately now, first to one side, then to an- 
other, and yet I felt that the stopping of its paddles 
could hardly prevent the catastrophe. One moment I 
looked over my shoulder: it was fairly on top of me. I 
remember frantically diving, and trying to make myself 
sink down, down, and yet I felt like a cork; then a great 
surging of waters, a confused bubbling as of the breaking 
of the drums of my ears; I experienced a sharp pain as 
from the stroke of the paddle across my head, and a mo- 
ment after, rising to the surface, the lights of the great 
city were again in my eyes. I was weak and confused. 
As a dragon sucking me into its capacious jaws, the great 
unknown was dragging me now. I seemed to be swimming 
on a sea of oil, Lethe before me, the Past behind. The 
circumstances of the suit crowded again into my memory, 
as the oil-like waters crept higher over my face. I was 
sinking down, as it were, into a vast field of oil, and it 
was closing thick and glutinous and darkly over me. My 
last distinct impression as I went down was, that I actual- 
ly was Fitzamble, and that on the whole I was glad to 
have successfully disposed of him at last. 


XX. 


Ah! how pleasant it is, quite worth dying for, after a 
life of trouble and of care, to wake up where I found my- 
self lying now — namely, in heaven! How bright the light 
is, and how beautiful the angels! How fragrant the at- 
mosphere and delicious the music of the spheres! How 
blue the clouds that draped like curtains my cerulean 
bed! Now, for the benefit of my numerous friends who, 
I sincerely hope, are destined for the same beatific 
realms, I must acknowledge that I had yet one great 
anxiety as I lay back and reflected, and it was this: name- 
ly, whether because of the manner of my “ taking off ” I 
would be properly recorded by a tombstone down below, 
stating in deep-cut letters my priceless virtues and how 
much the world generally had lost in me. This, I must 
confess, caused me no little anxiety, for even heaven 
would not be quite heaven if we could worry about nothing. 

The bright effulgence of things, and the general beati- 
tude of my situation, gradually drew off my mind from 
this earthly topic, and I began to study a little more care- 
fully my surroundings. 

There are many mansions in the skies, and presumably 
many chambers, and, with an appreciation that virtue had 
at last met with its just reward, I became conscious that 
mine must be the very best chamber. Indeed, with no 
little secret pride I could not help recognizing how much 

49 


5© THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

better I was “ fixed ” (please excuse the expression) than 
any of my numerous friends that had preceded me couid 
be, since I was quite alone in my glory; and this was only 
to be accounted for by the fact of my superior virtue en- 
titling me to degrees of bliss that suffered no vulgar 
approach. But hold* here comes an angel, the same 
whose presence I had before been only dimly aware of, 
but who had been especially detailed, in all likelihood, to 
look after my comfort. She is again drawing near, and 
I can hear the flutter of her wings and the rustling of her 
drapery. She pulls the clouds of my canopy wider apart, 
and without turning towards me her face, presses my brow 
as she runs her fingers through my hair. On one of these 
fingers glistened a tiny star, and another of greater mag- 
nitude held like a pin the soft drapery over her breast. 
Through the opening of the clouds, however, I caught 
sight of a figure, who looked anything but ethereal, sitting 
alongside my bed on a very matter-of-fact chair. Indeed, 
he was a stout old gentleman in a black frock-coat, and 
he had a way of blowing his nose like a trumpet, but not 
at all like a heavenly one. He irritated me, he seemed 
so of the earth, earthy. 

“And how do we feel this bright morning?” he bent 
over my bed to inquire. 

His question irritated me more than his presence. I 
must say something to start him off, in order that I might 
be left alone with my angel. 

“ If you’ll excuse me, sir,” I observed, with a dignity 
worthy of the exalted spheres I had been raised to, “ you 
look a leetle out of keeping up here ; might I inquire 
your business ?” 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 5 1 

“ Fm a doctor, my good sir,” he replied, with a pro- 
voking air of good-humored sympathy. 

“ Ah! I see; come to look after the numerous patients 
you have sent up before their time,” I observed, with a 
touch of malice. “ Is your name Barker ?” 

“ I’ve come up to see one of them,” he replied, “ and 
I’m glad he’s so much better.” Then, turning to my 
angel, ‘‘We’ll pull him through now, madam, we’ll pull 
him through.” 

“ Pull him through what?” I asked. I don’t know ex- 
actly what language I expected to find in use where I was, 
but his jarred upon me sadly. The idea, too, of address- 
ing an angel as “madam !” I had heard “madams” 
called “ angels ” in the wicked world below, but that form 
of address seemed terribly gross now. This opinion I 
expressed in quite forcible language. He got up from 
the chair and looked at me with the most puzzled ex- 
pression. 

“ Where do you suppose you are, anyway, my dear 
sir ?” he asked. 

“ I’m in heaven, sir. I’ll have you to understand. I 
was knocked off the back of a ferry-boat, drowned in 
the East River, and came here without the assistance of 
any doctor.” 

I saw him shake his head. 

“ A queer case, a queer case,” he muttered. “ Thank 
God we’ve got him out of his stupor, though! Three 
drops of that mixture every half-hour, madam ; keep 
him quiet, and his mind will gradually clear up.” 

Then he departed, and my angel came over towards 
me. Again she bends over me, and this time turns upon 


52 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO, 


me her face. Where had I seen that face before ? She 
smiles softly, and a great tear falls upon my cheek. 
Where had I seen it ? Where ? Where ? Where ? Ah j 
I have it, and, recognizing her with a start, I came to my- 
self and to my real situation. 


X. 


To BE Struck from heaven to earth at one fell swoop is 
a fate that happens to us all at some period of our lives, if 
in a less seemingly actual manner than in my case. 

The shock rendered me perfectly speechless and took 
my breath away. After that brief recognition she left 
me, and alone I reviewed the situation. I had done all I 
could. Can you, O reader, suggest a single step I had 
neglected ? I had fought against my fate, I had strug- 
gled against it, yet here I found myself in spite of my 
efforts. To be under her charge, the subject of her soli- 
citude, ay, the recipient of her hospitality and her ca- 
resses — was it right, was it moral ? I endeavored to rise 
from my bed and get up and away. I fell back ex- 
hausted. I was helpless, unable to resist, therefore I 
resigned myself to the inevitable. Circumstances too 
powerful to control were guiding me. What was tp be 
the result ? The assault on the ferry-boat, from which I 
had so narrowly escaped, seemed further to indicate some 
sinister conspiracy against my life ; yet to unravel this, or 
even to explain how I got here, I was yet too weak and 
exhausted to attempt. Here I was, however, despite 
myself, and as a relief to my thoughts I began to survey 
my surroundings again in the light of a fully restored con- 
sciousness. There was an exquisite freshness and luxury 
about everything, as I have said, and I smiled as I looked 

53 


54 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


at the gauze curtains of the bed and remembered how I 
had mistaken them for clouds in my slow awakening. 
Drawn tightly about my couch, they gave a slightly indis- 
tinct appearance to the objects in the room, to the furni- 
ture, to the bric-a-brac, and co the hangings of the walls. 
The last were a sky-blue chintz, but the set figures of the 
flowers were quite maddening in their regularity. Every- 
thing on every side was beautiful, however, and through 
the open curtains of the window the sun streamed in. 
The world, this world that I had regained, was not so bad 
a place, after all! 

On the mantel a Dresden china clock ticked away the 
hours, and alongside of the clock were a couple of Chinese 
mandarins of the same ware. Their heads and hands 
were moving in the breeze from the window, and I be- 
thought me of that most delightful romance, “A Journey 
Around my Room.” Had I not possessed so hearty a 
contempt for novelists and the like cattle, I almost think 
1 should have sketched out the plot for a book on some- 
what the same lines. Indeed, I did toy with the idea, and 
pictured to myself the kind of heroine I would evolve. 
Should she resemble the heroine of my own actual romance? 
A keen resentment filled my soul against her, and yet that 
she was the medium of my restoration to life filled me 
with a sense of my own base ingratitude because I did 
entertain that resentment. On the whole the best thing 
to do was to plead with her to allow me to depart. Why 
did she not come that I might address her at once ? Again 
I looked at the clock. Half an hour had elapsed from 
the time of her departure ; she ought to return soon, if 
only to give me my medicine. I waited, as I was com- 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 55 

pelled to do, looking at the clock and anon at the Chinese 
mandarins, who now seemed nodding at me derisively. 
I grew angry at them for their behavior, and at her for 
not coming. I was actually getting impatient to tell her 
of my anxiety to leave. I prepared myself to receive 
her with becoming dignity, and saw her in my mind’s eye 
opening the door, with a kindliness that would make my 
task nevertheless somewhat embarrassing. She would of 
course be arrayed as she was last ; and again I saw her 
in my imagination in that pale blue velvet tea-gown, that 
fell in such soft, luxurious folds from her person. Con- 
found it ! Was she never coming ? The clock seemed 
running a race with time. But hush! I hear the creaking 
of a door ; I hear a footfall — she is coming now. Sud- 
denly the portieres are drawn apart, and then, not she, but 
a little old gentleman with gray hair brushed well forward, 
a little old gentleman of disagreeable if not hated recol- 
lection, is before me and advancing to my bedside. I 
don't know of anything more disagreeable than expecting 
a woman in a pale blue velvet tea-gown puffed with lace; 
a woman that you have prepared to receive, though it be 
with dignity, if not coldness, I know of nothing rnore dis- 
agreeable, I say, than, expecting such an apparition of 
loveliness, to find her father take her place. He came 
into the room with the same little jerky way he had when 
he visited me at my hotel, and which had been his usual 
manner during the suit. Had I been strong enough, I 
would have pitched him out the window. I was about 
to express my keen displeasure at his coming — I had in 
deed opened my mouth for that purpose — when I abruptly 
closed it on seeing him raise a wine-glass, and after 


56 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

pouring into it a few drops from a vial, look at it criti- 
cally. 

“ I allowed my daughter to attend you when you were 
unconscious,” he said, “ but now that you’ve come round 
I deem it better to see to you myself. Here, take this.” 

There are times when one^s emotions are so deeply 
moved that no words will express them; when one is 
speechless, paralyzed as it were, by one’s own indignation. 

I tried to open my mouth, but when I did so the horrid, 
cursed wine-glass was directed at my lips and I would be 
compelled to close them tight. To suffer the ministra- 
tion of a woman of an emotional character and a bright 
and sparkling face, to even have her come and extend a 
glass with her star decked fingers, can be borne with a cer- 
tain degree of equanimity, although that glass contains 
medicine; but to have a horrid little beast (though he be 
her father) first prevent the gentle ministration, and then 
come in her stead to press upon you this nostrum — bah! 
the medicine becomes poison, and you would do exactly 
what I did: open your mouth and pretend to take it for 
the supreme satisfaction of spitting it out. That is ex- 
actly what I did in my weakness and in my incapacity of 
resenting his conduct in any other manner, though I must 
confess I am rather ashamed of my conduct now. 

Mr. Dalzelle coolly poured out another dose, and seating 
himself philosophically on a chair, crossed his legs. 

“I’ll wait here till you take it,” he said, “then I’ll 
go.” 

“ Will you go as soon as I do ?” I asked eagerly. 

He nodded his head. 

“Very well, then. I’ll take it now,” I replied decisively. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


57 


He laughed good-humoredly as he handed me the 
second potion, and to be rid of him I swallowed it at a 
gulp. When he turned to leave I recovered myself and 
called him back for an explanation of things generally. 
Instead of acceding, however, he merely waved his hand 
and departed. 

All that day and the next he served me my medicine 
with his own hands, always refusing to talk or to enter 
into any explanation, treating me in that blandly patron- 
izing fashioh well people always treat invalids whom 
they have under their charge. The third day a 
colored youth, his own body servant, took his place, who 
was as loath to talk as his master. Between the two of 
them I became a confirmed man-hater, and by very force 
of contrast I got to long for the good “ angel ” that had 
tended me during my brief interregnum ’twixt life and 
death. The more I disliked the men, the more I longed 
for her— queer compound that human nature is ! 


XI. 


The fifth day, feeling somewhat better, I was moved 
to the sofa from the bed. On repeating my request 
for enlightenment as to my escape, the servant presented 
me with a bundle of papers and drew me up to the window 
so that my back should be turned towards the light. 
They were all sorted in regular order, and I learned to 
my astonishment, by the first one I took up, that I had 
been heralded throughout the breadth of the land as hav- 
ing attempted suicide; in other words: — 

That “ George Henry Fitzamble, alias Aaron Simoni, 
the defendant in the now famous suit for desertion, had 
endeavored to end a misguided and useless career by 
plunging from a ferry-boat into the East River.” The 
paragraph was headed: — 

‘‘Startling Suicide Frustrated,” and following this 
with a wealth of alliteration truly astounding, “Simoni 
THE Sinner Springs from the Side of a Steamer into 
THE Sound — Is he Sane ?” 

Three columns were devoted to my personal descrip- 
tion, and then a notice appeared in an evening extra stating 
how, the morning prints meeting the eye of a sorrowing 
wife, she had come with true womanly sympathy to the hos- 
pital where I had been taken, and brought me home to her 
nest. Next followed interviews with the principal men of 
the city regarding their opinions as to my identity — 
58 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


59 


whether I was Aaron Simoni or George Henry Fitz- 
amble. Prominent lawyers, bankers, statesmen, clergy- 
men, and even a prize-fighter, had been required to give 
in large print their views on the vexed question. 

I learned, too, as I read on, that bulletins were being 
issued each day as to my condition, and generally that 
whatever celebrity I had acquired by the suit was aug- 
mented by my attempted self-destruction.’’ 

As regards the manner of my escape, I inferred tha 
the newspapers were accurate here, save that only one 
ferry-boat figured in the account; making me out to 
have sprung from the same one which had rescued me, but 
neglecting to mention that this last had first run me down 
Without my knowledge, my cries, it seems, had attracted 
the notice of a deck-hand, and he had even caught sight 
of my struggles just after I was struck by the paddle- 
wheel. Shouting to the pilot to stop, he had seized 
a life-preserver, and jumping into the water had caught 
me just after I had lost consciousness and as I went down 
for the last time. The boat had thereupon put back, and 
we were soon afterwards pulled on deck. In consideration 
of the way he had risked his life for his son-in-law, Mr. 
Dalzelle had presented him with the munificent reward of 
just five dollars. Now, you have the whole story in black 
and white, save, as I subsequently learned, that instead of 
being brought by the daughter to her home, I had, on the 
contrary, been brought here by her father (though it had 
been at her solicitation), and that I had thereupon been 
consigned to the chamber reserved for guests; lastly, that 
a severe scalp wound was expected to terminate in a short 
time a career that inferentially had been of little profit to 


6o 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


the world except to the public journals by giving them 
something in addition to the strikes to talk about. 

The extravagance of the situation, and its ludicrous- 
ness, outraged my every sense of propriety; I would put on 
my clothes this very instant and away. To have been cap- 
tured and brought back by “ my wife ” was bad enough, 
but to be captured and corralled by her father was in- 
supportable. Ah! if I had only known what was in store 
for me, and how slight a preparation this was for what was 
to ensue, I would not have been in such a hurry to break 
the brief respite that my convalescence afforded me. 

I left my couch stronger than I could have imagined. 
I opened a drawer of the bureau and discovered a morn- 
ing suit, which I recognized, and a change of linen, all 
of which must have been brought over from the hotel. 

Under these circumstances a complete toilet was soon 
effected, and after a short rest I opened the door and 
looked out. I found, however, merely a narrow passage- 
way, but at the further end was another door. I felt 
somewhat like a criminal as I cautiously moved down to 
this, and particularly on opening it, when I unexpectedly 
came on the principal drawing-room. 

Should I endeavor to pass through it ? Yes, that would 
be the wisest course. I had got half-way across it, and 
was pirouetting around the center-table, when my foot 
came in contact with an unseen obstacle, and I stumbled. 
I heard a slight scream; I turned quickly and detected 
Edna Dalzelle in propria persona. She had been standing 
in the deep embrasure of the window, concealed by the 
curtains. 

For a moment she remained fixed where she was, re- 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


6l 


garding me with flushed cheeks. Either her embarrass- 
ment or the recognition of my own surreptitious be- 
havior made me blush, too. Unless it was the knowledge 
of the proximity of the household, I hardly know why, 
but I raised my finger to my lips. 

She came over towards me slowly, but something, I 
can’t say what, was between us. She was no longer the 
same as she was before, though the same flush suffused 
her cheeks. It became her well. Indeed, she never 
looked so exquisite as she did at that moment. Counting 
upon her to drop into my arms, her change of manner 
puzzled me ; a new-born shyness, an unexpected delicacy, 
took the place of her former “ wifeliness.” It fascinated 
me. In my desire to overcome it I quite forgot that I 
had been intending to leave the house. I tried to take 
her hand and she drew it away. I caught it at last, and, 
weak fool that I was, I raised it to my lips. Then, a re- 
cognition of all her gentle ministration recurring to me, 
I drew her towards me and poured into her ear the grati- 
tude that until now I had failed to appreciate that I owed 
her. I have said before I was susceptible ; alas ! my 
sickness had made me more so. I felt the need of sup- 
port, and because I had been deprived of her society so 
long after I considered I had the right to expect it, I 
began to value it at last. Because she did not fall into 
my arms, as I say, I drew her towards me, but just as I 
was about to press my lips to hers she escaped me and 
ran out of the room. I could not follow her. Indeed, it 
was as much as I could d to get back to my own quar- 
ters. I had already overtaxed my strength, and regain- 
ing my room I threw myself down on the sofa utterly 


62 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


exhausted. She had actually not addressed me a single 
sentence, but her actions and her manner were as com- 
pletely altered as if belonging to another woman. 

How inconsistent is human nature ! Always wanting 
what it cannot have, and never satisfied till it gets it. 

Had she received me with effusiveness, I was prepared 
to tell her, to tell her kindly but coldly, my unalterable 
determination to depart. As it was, I had seized her 
hand and pressed it to my lips. Bah ! I was weak ; and 
yet why, in the devil’s name, had she not treated me as 
before ? Indeed, I have come to the conclusion that it is 
the titillating caprices of woman rather than her virtues 
that fascinate, and that we appreciate her most when we 
understand her least. 

Now I came back to my room, and as I lay there I 
determined that I would discover the meaning of her 
change, and why she had suddenly withdrawn from me 
her protection and her confidence. For this purpose I 
would suffer for yet another day the presence of her father 
and that of the colored servant himself. 


XII. 


you’re up and dressed,” Mr. Dalzelle exclaimed, 
unexpectedly entering the room some three hours 
later, and he wore a smile of greater geniality than I 
could have looked for. Indeed, he was actually chirping, 
and he seemed to take my recovery as entirely due to his 
own exertions. 

‘‘ I’ve brought you a few novels,” he said, opening a 
package. “ Do you like novels ?” 

I curtly replied that my experiences during the past few 
weeks would make any form of ‘ ‘ fiction ” extremely tame 
reading. 

Mr. Dalzelle gave a repetition of the same little chirpy 
laugh as he seated himself. 

“Well, I don’t know but you’re right,” he said; “but 
if you don’t care for novels I suppose you like games. 
How about chess, now ?” And he looked at me anxiously. 

“ I never played chess in my life.” 

“ Then, of course, you’re an adept at whist ?” 

“ Sir, there is not a single game of any character I take 
the slightest interest in, or can so much as play.” 

The old gentleman looked unhappy. 

“ What will you have for your old age, then ?” he 
asked. 

“ I’ll have a wife,” I o^«enred satirically. I could not 
help it, the retort slipped out so naturally. 

63 


64 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


“ That is a very noble sentiment, sir,” he replied, taking 
me literally, “ and one that I ought certainly to indorse. 
But you will have to learn one of these games. I’m a 
great player of whist myself, sir — of whist, chess, and 
indeed of all games ; but I only came to bring a mes- 
sage from my daughter.” He hesitated. “ My daughter 
is a very peculiar young woman, sir, as you’ll discover 
when you know her better. She takes after her poor 
mother, who has long since been dead.” 

“ How about the message ?” I asked, with no little in- 
terest. 

“ Oh! the message. Well, she wanted to make an ap- 
pointment with you for later in the afternoon ; I put my 
foot down, however, and insisted that she should post- 
pone matters, which she agreed to do till fo-morrow at 
eleven o’clock. You’ll excuse me if I’m not present, 
won’t you ?” he stopped to inquire. 

“ Certainly I’ll excuse you,” I said. 

“ Because, you know, I go down-town every morning 
at ten, and, unless it’s something special, I don’t like be- 
ing late. Ta-ta, ta-ta !” And waving his hand he went 
out, only to reinsert his head into the room. “You’ll re- 
member what I told you,” he said; “she’s very capricious 
at times, so you must not hold me responsible for any- 
thing she may do or say.’ 


XIII. 


Mr. Dalzelle’s parting words gave me food for reflec- 
tion the remainder of the day, and served as the keynote 
to my dreams at night, for the merest bagatelle, if one’s 
horizon be confined to the walls of a sick-chamber, creates 
an interest an earthquake would scarcely evoke at other 
times. 

I rose the next morning feeling stronger than the day 
before. Yet I flattered myself that the interesting look 
of the invalid still lingered about me, and that it was not 
unbecoming. Three times I changed my tie before I felt 
thoroughly satisfied with my appearance, and I resolved 
to transfer to my button-hole a flower from a vase on the 
mantelpiece hard by. Yes, I would make myself as at- 
tractive as possible, though in other respects I would let 
the blow fall easily — I mean the blow to the poor little 
woman who loved me, not wisely, but so well Her man- 
ner was changed, to be sure, but it was merely the natural 
diffidence of a young and pretty woman at recognition of 
her peculiar position. Her affection was unalterable, and 
would always abide. At eleven o’clock punctually I found 
her in the sitting-room where I had had my interview with 
her the previous morning. 

I advanced to kiss her hand as a non-compromising ac- 
tion inaugurated yesterday as a precedent, but she refused 


me. 


65 


66 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


“Would you mind taking your seat there?” she said, 
as she pointed to one end of an ottoman, while she took 
the opposite end. 

I was just starting off on the weather, which is an in- 
variable habit of mine if I am set back, when she inter- 
rupted me, and in a hard, cold voice. 

“ I sent for you,” she began, “ I sent for you because 
— because — oh! how can I tell you,” she cried, breaking 
down, “ why I sent for you ?” And she hid her face in 
her handkerchief. 

“ But I must tell you, I must make the effort,” she con- 
tinued hysterically, “ never mind what you will think of 
me.” 

I patiently waited to hear what she would say, as 
I looked at her intently. 

“I wanted to tell you that perhaps I have been to 
blame,” she resumed after an awkward pause. “ Indeed, 
during your convalescence, and since I have had time for 
reflection, I am almost sure I have been to blame.” 

“To blame about what^” I inquired. 

“Why, for my conduct towards you. I scarcely know 
how or why, but I have begun to have doubts — suspicions. ” 

“Suspicions ?” 

“Yes, suspicions that I may have been mistaken after 
all. Imagine what a position I find myself in with my 
doubt — with my doubt increasing, growing into a convic- 
tion that you are nothing to me, and that I have made a 
huge and colossal blunder.” 

For a moment words actually failed me. 

“You have been a pretty long time arriving at this 
conviction,” was all I could say. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


67 


But it is not a conviction, it is only a suspicion. In- 
deed, if it were a conviction my course would be clear. 
But you would not deceive me, would you ?” she went on, 
hurriedly; ‘‘you are good and true.” 

“ What has started these suspicions ?’’ I asked, with a 
natural curiosity. 

“ I don’t know; mere trifles, little expressions, little ways 
of speech, that now, as I look back upon them, are so like 
and yet so different from George’s. But these differences are 
merely the result of the long time you have been away, 
are they not ? Oh! if I should have actually made a mis- 
take, do you know what I’d do? I would throw myself 
down on the hard, cold stones in the street. Then you’d 
be sorry for me, and regret that you had treated me so 
cruelly.” 

Without stopping to consider the injustice of this reflec- 
tion, I felt for the moment a pang like a knife-blade pierc- 
ing my heart. 

“ And you know,” she went on, “ nothing that you can 
do or say will make any difference. If you tell me you 
did marry me, I am more fully persuaded that you did 
not; and yet, if you tell me that you did not, I think again 
that you must have cause to deny your act. Oh! this 
doubt is killing me; think of my embarrassment at finding 
myself placed as I am!” 

Ridiculous as it may sound, I sympathized with her 
deeply. 

“But could you not care for me if I were other than 
you supposed?” I weakly inquired, my consideration for 
her carrying me temporarily away. 

“ No,” she answered firmly. “I care for you because 


68 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


of my recollections, and hate you for the differences I de- 
tect in you. I feel myself drawn to you because of the 
first, and repelled from you by reason of the last. I 
can’t let you go away from me, since I may be mistaken, 
and I can’t regard you quite as my husband after all that 
has transpired. Oh! why did you ever come back; why, 
after deserting me, did you not continue to stay away ? 
I look upon myself as only half married to you. That 
is the way my situation strikes me.” 

“ Then divorce yourself from this former chain of recol- 
lections, and let me stand before you anew — ” a new 
suitor, I was going to say, but I realized the danger of 
using such a word in time and wisely stopped myself 
at “ anew.” 

‘‘ Never! never!” she exclaimed. “ If it was not you 
that married me, you could not respect me after what 
has occurred ; besides how could I ever live with a man 
whose affections I had captured ? O that lawsuit! 
When I look back upon it, and consider how you must 
regard me, I am almost tempted to throw myself down 
into the street !” 

She got up excitedly, and, opening the long French 
window, stepped out upon a narrow balcony on which it 
gave. 

I must have betrayed some involuntary sign of alarm. 
I certainly rose to my feet, and as I did so a change 
came over her. 

“ Stand just where you are,” she cried, with a sudden 
air of determination. (I could not have reached her had 
I tried.) “ Now raise your right hand and swear — swear 
to me that my doubts are the veriest hallucinations of a 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 69 

fevered fancy; swear,” she cried, and she actually placed 
one little varnished boot in the tracery of the railing till 
she raised herself above the street, swear, or it is my 
last moment on earth.” 

A cold terror seized me. She was looking at me 
with an expression that for the moment left little doubt 
in my mind as to her purpose. 

“Swear,” she cried, “once more and for the last 
time.” And then, just as 1 thought she was actually about 
to throw herself over, I swore that I had really married 
her, as I would have sworn to anything she asked. 


XIV 


What a curious reflection it is that Hell, Harmony, 
Happiness and Hate all begin with the same letter, possi- 
bly because they all have their habitation and often hold 
high carnival together in that greater H, the Human 
Heart. 

My heart was full of these mixed emotions, if I can 
call them so, each one struggling, too, for supremacy, 
with a tendency for the last to usurp them all — Hate 
for the position she had placed me in, for my own 
weakness and lack of ingenuity in not getting out 
of it better than I had. In the privacy of my own room 
and away from her tears and fascinations, I could appre- 
ciate the fool I had been. I had no one but myself to 
blame in allowing a momentary feeling of sympathy to 
have got me into such a hole. But I would make instant 
amends ; I would ring my bell and ask to be conducted 
to Mr. Dalzelle. He should be of some use after all, for, 
explaining to him this last development, I would on the 
strength of it request my ticket of leave, and permit 
him to break the news of my departure to his daughter. 

Curse it! he was not at home. I ought to have remem- 
bered that he had by this time been long down town. 

Should I leave without making any explanation ? After 
this last episode it seemed scarcely consistent; after his 
kindness, scarcely courteous ; and again, if I departed 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 7 1 

now I might encounter her a second time and have 
the v;hole scene repeated. For this I found myself to- 
tally unfit. I resolved to wait Mr. Dalzelle’s return, and 
picked up one of the novels he had brought me to pass 
away the time, actually refusing to take my luncheon 
when I heard the valet knocking with it at the door. All 
that bright summer day I waited, anon trying to read, 
and anon moving like a caged lion about my room, though 
I must confess the lion in me was very much played out. 

It was nearly five o’clock before I heard his familiar 
ring, and I went out into the hall to meet him. He 
seemed much preoccupied, and he had a large bundle 
of papers under his arm. 

“ You mustn’t disturb me now,” he said, glancing at his 
bundle; I’ve a new combination in chess I really must 
work out.” 

I insisted on his attention, however, and even followed 
him into the library. 

‘‘ Very well,” he weariedly observed at last, “ what 
is it?” 

And then I described to him my interview with his 
daughter, and while expressing my regrets, stated my un- 
alterable and final determination to break the whole thing 
off. 

Instead of being angry, as I was prepared for him to 
be, he looked at me with a soothing, sympathizing ex- 
pression. 

“ Well, I really don’t know what I can say,” he observed. 
“ I thought the matter was fixed up satisfactorily, and 
now it’s all to be opened up again. I never interfere with 
my daughter in any way. She’s a very whimsical young 


72 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


woman, and, as I told you before, you must not hold me 
responsible for anything she may do.” 

“ But I hold you responsible for your share in this 
cursed lawsuit,” I answered. 

“ You wouldn’t,” he replied, “ if you knew how hard 
it is to thwart her. She twists me right around her finger, 
just like that. She has a way of going into hysterics, 
too, poor child, when she is opposed; and even if I had 
not believed that you had married her under an alias, 
she would never have given me a moment’s peace.” 

‘‘ Do you really believe I did marry your daughter ? 

I asked. 

“ I swear I did, sir, when I testified. My brief experi- 
ence since your illness, however, assures me that you are 
a man of honor, and now I tell you frankly I don’t know 
what to believe. Though four years have elapsed and I 
never saw this Fitzamble more than a dozen times in my 
life, I remember him well enough'to appreciate that your 
resemblance to him is extraordinary. In fact, if you 
come to question me on the subject, and after all that has 
happened, I am almost inclined to believe that you really 
did marry her, and that, having forgotten the circum- 
stances, you are not quite responsible for your actions.” 

He folded his arms and looked up at me with a deliber- 
ation that for so small a man was truly heroic. 

“ I wish you to understand one thing,” he added after 
a moment’s pause: “ I was not responsible for your being 
brought here. My daughter read of your accident in the 
papers, and in spite of my protest insisted on my having 
you moved from the hospital. She has a way of going into 
hysterics when she is opposed, and, seeing her on the 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


73 


verge of this, I weakly yielded. Once that you were 
here I could not very well put you into the street, and, 
indeed, if you will permit of the observation, I resolved 
to make the best of a bad bargain.” 

“ Very well, sir; I’ll terminate that bargain at once. A 
cursed fatality that I believe has never had its equal has 
followed me at every step in this adventure, but I will see 
my lawyer at once and learn if nothing can be done to 
relieve a situation that I assure you is simply intolerable.” 

“ You’re leaving without your hat, sir,” he observed as 
I went out. 

“ Never mind my hat,” I returned, taking his in my 
confusion ; then I departed, and in due course of time I 
arrived, scarcely knowing how I got there, in the street. 


XV. 

Finding myself where I was, however, the first thing to 
determine was whither to direct my steps. Should 
I return to my old hotel, or should I go first to my 
lawyer’s ? What my lawyer could do was a problem diffi- 
cult of solution, and I was walking along, weighing the 
matter in my mind, when my eye was attracted by a 
sign on the outside of a dwelling house. It read some- 
what in this wise : 

DR. REBECCA SEATON, 

CLAIRVOYANT AND FEMALE PHYSICIAN. 

Freely consulted in 

all cases where human OFFICE HOURS. 

agencies have failed. 

Fee two dollars ; no g a. m. to 3 f. m. 

compensation expected p. m. to 6 p. m. 

unless full satisfaction 

given. 

“ Dr. Rebecca Seaton ! ” I repeated to myself. Where 
had I heard that name ? It had a familiar sound. 

I looked at my watch; it was exactly twenty minutes 
past five. I had often had a curiosity about these clair- 
voyants; should I try the powers of one now? Certain- 
ly, I had sufficient excuse to do so, and would not have 
applied to her till all other human agencies had failed. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 75 

Anyhow, she could scarcely prove less competent than my 
lawyer, and her services would undoubtedly be far 
cheaper, since her fee was only two dollars. Rebecca 
Seaton — Rebecca Seaton! Where had I heard that name 
before ? And wrestling with my memory, I mounted the 
stoop and rang the bell. I was admitted into the sacred 
presence of the oracle by a youth with a dirty face, and 
ears that stood out like wings from each side of his 
head. I am strongly inclined to suspect that the same 
oracle was engaged in some mysterious performance with 
a whisky bottle when I entered. I am certain I saw her 
drop a pretty good-sized one into a voluminous pocket of 
her dress, and a faint aroma of alcohol certainly pervaded 
the atmosphere. She, however, explained matters by the 
statement that she sometimes took an alcohol bath be- 
tween office hours, leaving me in conjecture as to the 
quantity it would require for such a purpose. She was of 
elephantine proportions, with a red nose, watery eyes, and 
a manner I can only define as professional. Indeed, this 
manner was so pronounced as to forestall any question 
on my part; for, without rising from the table at which she 
was seated, she briefly requested me to put my hand 
upon her forehead and to take a chair beside her. 
Thereupon informing me that a state of hypnotism was 
the forerunner of any interview, she drew over toward 
her a large-sized slate, cast her eye upward and her 
head back, and proceeded to go o& into a very business- 
like trance. 

Not being of a particularly reverential disposition, I 
must acknowledge that the ludicrousness of my situation 
principally occupied my thoughts. With one hand on 


76 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


her forehead, the other on her knee, and my eyes directed 
on the slate, I might well have excited the ridicule of any 
one who saw me, particularly if in this manner I expected 
to have disclosed why her name was familiar to me. For 
some five minutes her hand, with its crayon, kept 
traversing the slate backwards and forwards, making but 
the merest flourishes, and I was at last on the point of 
bringing the audience to a close, when I noticed 
her pencil hesitate. For an instant it stopped, and then 
slowly and deliberately it traced “ South America,’’ after 
that ‘‘ War, battle, not dead." I began to smile to myself 
when I saw her go on to write “No marriage.” This 
was getting nearer, and I became interested. She had, of 
course, recognized me by my pictures in the papers. It 
was fully another five minutes before the pencil became 
again inspired, and I watched it with a greater curiosity 
than I should have cared to admit. Nor was my interest 
this time thrown away. First an H was traced, then an 
E, an N, and the letters constituting the name of Henry ; 
after that an S, an I, an M, etc., until “Henry Simons” 
stood out plain and distinct. 

I pushed back my chair in great agitation, and it drop- 
ped on the floor behind me. 

The mesmerist slowly came back to life — came back to 
the same sordid, dense vulgarity, and left me looking at 
her in rapt wonder. I had entered to question her 
about her own name, and behold! she had presented me 
with another that drove the purpose of my interview for the 
moment clean out of my thoughts. To all my questions, 
however, she shook her head and professed to know 
nothing about what she had written. Indeed, only one 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


77 


lively emotion seemed to influence her — namely, as to 
whether the briefness of her communications would raise 
any hesitation in my mind as to the payment of her two- 
dollar fee. 

What a chain of thoughts her cabalistic writings had 
started, what a sad page of my earlier life they recalled! 
By what extraordinary coincidence had she struck upon 
that name ? It had never been so much as mentioned in 
the suit, nor had I reason to suppose that a single 
soul in the whole city of New York had so much as 
ever heard it. Indeed, the person to whom it referred 
had now long dropped into oblivion, buried in that terrible 
strife between the North and the South. 

For one instant it suggested a solution of my present 
predicament — I mean of the position I found myself in 
with regard to -my supposititious marriage. But I put it 
away from me. It was too wild, too extravagant for even 
contemplation. Her happening to hit upon that name 
was only another coincidence more extraordinary than 
any that had preceded it. Voila tout / 


XVI. 


I WALKED around to my old hotel, and was sufficiently 
fortunate to find a suite of rooms that had just been 
vacated. Had my reverie been less engrossing, I might 
have noticed more particularly a mendicant who followed 
me into the office. All I remember about him is that I 
gave him a quarter to be rid of him; and yet, in spite of 
this, that he somewhat pertinaciously hung about me dur- 
ing my conversation with the clerk concerning the suite of 
rooms I was to occupy. His clothes were hardly of a 
sufficiently dilapidated character to warrant his ejection 
in the harsh manner in which the unfortunate are occa- 
sionally dismissed from the halls of our palatial hotels, and 
I merely supposed at the time that he was dissatisfied 
with my largess and that he delayed his departure in the 
hope of securing more. 

To avoid the noise and the publicity of the regular din- 
ing hall, I ordered my dinner served in my sitting room, 
and sent around for my lawyer to share with me my 
meal ; not that I had altered, during the interval since I 
had seen him, my opinion of his legal acumen, but, feeling 
very lonely, I invited him merely to have some one to 
talk to. 

Mr. Slocum came around promptly. Indeed, a dinner 
at a client’s expense was the only matter he never evinced 
any hesitation about responding to. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


79 


The same old manner was as pronounced as ever, and 
when I told him of the circumstances succeeding the law- 
suit (circumstances of which he was only partly cognizant 
through the public journals) he wrinkled his nose 
more than ever. 

“ What is my exact legal status now ?” I asked, as I 
lighted my cigar at the close of the meal. 

Well, sir, I have made a motion to appeal the case,” 
he answered. 

“ How long will it be before it can be settled defi- 
nitely ?” 

He thought for a moment. 

suppose, if we hurry it, in about fifteen years.” 

“ Fifteen years !” I ejaculated. “ But what would be 
my position during the interval ?” 

Mr. Slocum wrinkled his nose again. 

“Well, sir, that would have to be left to the courts to 
decide also. Even if it should be established that you 
had not married her at the time she claimed, I don’t 
know but that your subsequent conduct would constitute 
a marriage now I” 

“ A marriage now ?” 

“Yes; you have been living in the same house with 
her, you have been accepted by her father, and, if I 
rightly understand, you swore that you had actually mar- 
ried her to prevent her springing out of the window. You 
must allow that would sound very strangely, that last ? 
An American jury would be apt to be suspicious as to the 
cause of your renewing your vows.” 

“ But what is the law on marriage ?” I asked, “ is it not 
definite and exact ?” 


8o 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


“ There are not two States in the Union where the laws 
of marriage agree,” he said. “The law looks to the 
spirit of the thing, but it is inclined to interpret this spirit 
differently in different States.” 

“ But do you mean to say my merely staying under the 
same roof with her, and the circumstances I have related, 
would of themselves constitute a marriage anywhere?” 

“I mean to say that the circumstances might be so 
construed that the courts would consider them to mean a 
marriage in this very State.” 

“Well, I’ll be damned if the laws don’t need to be 
changed !” I ejaculated. 

“But if they were changed, what would become of 
us ?” he asked, with a sly laugh. 

“You mean that the laws are made for lawyers, not for 
justice ?” 

“Well, a little so. But to be serious,” he continued, 
“a man is scarcely safe anywhere from a designing 
woman, if she can show that she has lived under the same 
roof with him. The law is a sort of glue that couples 
people together — ‘ volens ’ generally, but sometimes 
‘ nolens.’ ” 

% 

“ At all events, divorces are easily procured, and if I 
am married to her now, as you say I am, I had better 
apply for one.” 

“ But you can’t ; it was decided by the court that she 
alone, not you, had the right to procure a divorce.” 

“Then will you tell me what I can do?” I asked 
desperately. 

“Well, if I were in your place I would wait and see 
what the lady’s next move is, By the way, sir, would 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 8 1 

you mind my closing the door ? It’s very remarkable ! I 
have closed that door three times, and now it’s open again.” 

The door was indeed ajar, and as I walked over towards 
it I thought I detected the sound of footsteps. I went 
out into the hall, and just as I reached it I noticed the 
door next to my bedroom on the further side of my suite 
silently closing. At the moment it only struck me as odd, 
and, on returning to my guest, the matter dropped out of 
my recollection. 

“You were saying there was no uniformity in the 
divorce laws,” I observed on resuming the conversation. 

“ I did not say so, but I well might,” replied Mr. Slocum. 
“As for that matter, a man can be a married man in one 
State, but a divorced one in another. He can be a bigam- 
ist in a third State, and not be married at all in a fourth !” 

“And in fact,” I interrupted, “we’ve a uniform cur- 
rency as regards money, but none regarding matri-mony.” 

And having made my pun — which I am bound to 
acknowledge had a somewhat depressing effect on my 
guest — I changed the subject to that of my visit to the 
clairvoyant’s. This I described in all its details, with the 
solitary exception of making no reference to the name she 
had so strangely conjured up from the obscurity of the 
past. From Rebecca Seaton we glided into spiritualism, 
and though I have a supreme contempt for that 
form of delusion, the subject left me in a somewhat nerv- 
ous frame of mind and disinclined to slumber. Owing, 
however, to the fact that this was in reality my first 
day out of a sick-room, I was extremely fatigued, and I 
therefore retired soon after Mr. Slocum’s departure, 
which was at half-past eleven o’clock. 


XVII. 


I WAS about getting into bed when I noticed that the 
moon was shining brightly into the room through the 
window, which, because of the heat, I had left well up. 
How curious are the workings of the human mind ! 
What recalled the train of thought is more than I can 
tell; but, as I pulled the shutters together, the sinister 
faces of those two men whom I had seen at Delmonico’s 
just before my adventure on the ferry boat recurred to 
my memory, blended in with the clairvoyant’s ugly 
physiognomy. 

Now whenever I go to bed with a disagreeable thought, 
I adopt the invariable expedient of pulling the bedclothes 
over my ears and resolutely determining to sleep. Even 
over sleep, I maintain, the power of will is dominant, and 
it generally proves so in my case. Nevertheless it failed 
to produce slumber now. For fully two hours I lay, 
tossing from one side of my bed to the other; and which- 
ever way I turned, the faces of those two men were before 
me. I saw them again in that lonely path of the park 
I saw them at again at Delmonico’s, and later I thought i 
recognized them in the two men who had assaulted me 
on the steamer. Could it have been they? Must it 
not have been they ? But what purpose could they 
have had ? I never carried much money on my per- 
son, seldom more than $25, and generally even 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


83 


less. Robbery could scarcely have been their motive, 
but otherwise what ? Something more sinister than theft, 
and I shuddered as I reproached myself for not having 
already given notice at police headquarters. But then I 
had had so much to do with police headquarters and the 
courts generally. I remembered now, too, the mysterious 
opening of my sitting room door earlier in the evening, 
and it made me feel additionally uncomfortable. There 
seemed a net cast about me that was being drawn tighter 
and closer each day. I had counted some three hundred 
and fifty meshes of this imaginary net when I fell into an 
uneasy slumber. 

How long afterwards it was, I have no means of deter- 
mining, but I awoke with a start, bathed in a profuse per- 
spiration. 

Now, there is one thing I am particularly sensitive to, 
namely, to being looked at surreptitiously. I can always 
tell when the human eye is fixed upon me, and I felt 
that a human eye was fixed upon me now. I shivered as 
I glanced about the room, knowing not in what direction 
it was, but conscious by its magnetism that it was some- 
where. Indeed, I can think of no more unpleasant pre- 
dicament than to be awakened from sleep by the uncanny, 
creeping sensation caused by somebody’s stealthy gaze. 
The uncertainty as to the purpose of the intruder, the doubt 
as to his whereabouts, and the silent magnetism that at- 
tracts you while it awes, all combine to make the situation 
far from agreeable. I searched every nook and corner of 
the room as I lay back in my bed, perfectly still, with my 
own eyes partly closed, half hoping my gaze would not be 
rewarded. At last, however, in the dim light of the half 


$4 the romance of an alter ego. 

turned-down gas, I caught sight of him glancing at me 
from behind a wardrobe that stood with its back toward 
a door communicating with the next room on the right. 
I was like the Irish maiden who, after long and patient 
search, found what she did not want. Then as I gazed, 
speechless, a hand white and ghostlike came stealing 
around the edge of the same piece of furniture, as if seek- 
ing a hold on it to push it to one side, creeping and feel- 
ing its way along the edge until it was in full view. I 
don’t know that I am less courageous than other men, but 
possibly because of all that I had gone through, or, 
likely, because my nerves had been unstrung by my 
illness, my self-control gave way. If only to break 
the thralldom of his eye, I shouted out loud, I jumped 
from the bed, and in endeavoring to turn on the gas 
turned it out. I started for the door and tried to open it. 
The key v*^as on the inside, and, though I turned it, the 
door stuck. I got hold of the bell rope and rung it vio- 
lently. At last, in feeling for a match, I found my revol- 
ver, which I now remembered to have taken out of my trunk 
in dressing for dinner. I gave a brisk, cheery laugh, as I 
cocked it, and, aiming behind the wardrobe, I let fly. I 
fired three shots, one after another ; and yet I must have 
fired wide of my aim, for I broke with a loud crash the 
glass in the wardrobe. Then as I waited, palpitating, I 
heard a door, as of the room adjoining mine, open 
out in the hall ; I heard the sound of footsteps running 
down the corridor, and, applying all my strength, I pulled 
my own door open and rushed out. A light was stream- 
ing from the apartment next mine. It was tenantless. I 
hurried to the stairs, and could hear the echo of descend- 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


85 


ing footsteps. There were some five flights in all, and 1 
followed down on the full run. At the bottom I encountered 
a terrified watchman, who on seeing me hastily decamped, 
loudly calling for assistance. The cause of his alarm, as 
I subsequently learned, was that the fugitive in passing 
him had hinted at a desperate maniac up-stairs who had 
endeavored to take his life. Thereupon the watchman 
had interposed no barrier to his departure, and had nat- 
urally concluded on seeing me that the desperate maniac 
was coming down-stairs, and would very likely attempt 
his life next. In the confusion of the moment, therefore, 
the person who I had every right to infer had endeavored 
to effect an entrance into my room had been allowed to es- 
cape, and, as I was now informed that he was fully dressed, 
I had little hopes of his apprehension because of the scant- 
iness of his attire. 

The proprietor soon after presented himself, and we in- 
vestigated the register. We found that the adjoining 
apartment had been accorded some two hours after my 
arrival to a stranger who had been extremely anxious for 
that particular room, and who explained that his luggage 
would not arrive until the following day. He inscribed 
himself as the Hon. James Ashley of London, England. 

The best clue I received, however, was from the clerk, 
whom the proprietor forthwith summoned. He recalled 
what he considered now the suspicious manner in which 
the mendicant had hung about me the previous afternoon 
during my conversation with him in regard to my quar- 
ters, and suggested that he might have been sent ahead 
to learn exactly where I was to be put ; that he had 
thereupon communicated with a confederate, who had 


86 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


come later and secured the adjoining room under the 
alias of the Hon. James Ashley. 

For the apprehension of this supposititious scion of a 
noble house an alarm was immediately sent out, and, after 
ordering a carriage, I remounted to my sanctuary for the 
purpose of completing my costume. Indeed, the slim- 
ness of my attire caused extreme embarrassment to the 
numerous guests of the feminine gender whom I met on 
my way back, and whom the excitement generally, and 
the report of my pistol in particular, had called into the 
corridors in scarcely more conventional garments than 
my own. 

My purpose was to immediately drive down to the police 
department, and to put the matter in the hands of the 
chief of the detective force myself. I had delayed al- 
ready too long, since there remained no doubt but that 
my life was seriously menaced. 

When I arrived at my destination, however, and stated 
the case in all its particulars, I was annoyed to perceive 
that, my name and reputation having preceded me, a 
doubt was raised in the official breast as to the veracity 
of my story. They promised to do all that they could, 
but their manner spoke stronger than language their 
opinion that my mind was a little affected. Instead of 
accepting the version of the proprietor, whom they con- 
sidered naturally biassed in my favor, they evidently pre- 
ferred to accept that of the porter, who repeated what 
the fugitive had told him in his sudden flight. 


XVIII. 


If I had any doubts as to this unfavorable verdict on 
my conduct, I would have had them removed the follow- 
ing morning by the public journals, which must have got 
their cue from the detective's office. “Aaron Again 
Aroused’* appeared in the same startling alliteration, 
and after this : 

“ Attempts an Awful Assault on a Friendless 
Foreigner, and Drives Him Down with His Derrin- 
ger INTO the Street. No Question now as to His 
Insanity.” 

I don’t know when I was ever more provoked in my 
life than on seeing this unjustifiable version of my ad- 
venture. 

At my earnest solicitation Mr. Slocum stopped to see 
me on his way down to his office, and I was sure that he 
now shared the opinion that had become all but universal. 
He was even a little afraid of me, I thought, and he had 
developed a nervous manner of edging up toward the 
door every now and then when, in course of conversation, 
1 approached him. Poor man! I am not surprised at it, 
and though I flatter myself that I have as fair an average 
of plain common sense as falls to the lot of most, I 
sometimes wonder that I really did not get a little “ off 
my nut,” as I believe the expression goes. To repeat: 
Mr. Slocum was extremely timid, and, probably for 
this reason, could give me absolutely no assistance for 


88 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


advice. I had got beyond his depth, as he frankly con- 
fessed to me, and though I tried to put the new develop- 
ment of my affairs before him as plainly and concisely as 
possible, he could only wrinkle his nose and look com- 
pletely obfuscated. I know he did not believe in my 
construction of this last adventure any more than they 
did at police headquarters, and was prepared to accept 
my aberration of mind as the easiest way out of the 
whole dilemma. And yet I had got rather to like the 
little man, or, to be more accurate, I had grown used to 
him, for he was the only person to whom I had been able 
to talk freely. I recognized now, however, that his for- 
bearance was exhausted, and, though he agreed to con- 
tinue as my counsel, he did so in a half-hearted, spiritless 
manner, and in a way that assured me that he would in- 
finitely prefer to wash his hands of me completely. 

I felt extremely lonely when he left, and the world 
seemed barren and forlorn. The bright, sunny weather 
of the past few days had changed, too, and, though as 
a rule I am not particularly sensitive to outside influ- 
ences, a dull, gloomy day affects my spirits all the same. 

Heretofore I had looked upon my predicament some- 
what in the light of a huge monumental joke — a piece of 
opera bouffe in real life. Now a gloomier, a more tragic 
phase seemed stealing over it that filled me with vague 
foreboding and alarm. The very condition of the coun- 
try, too, though my own affairs had pretty well drawn off 
my thoughts from it, was sufficient to create a feeling of 
uneasiness in the breast of any patriotic American. 
Strikes, and rumors of fresh strikes, were on every hand, 
and the dreaded power of the Knights of Labor was just 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


89 


beginning to make itself felt. There is little doubt that 
had I had less on my mind I might have gained a clue 
as to my perplexities from what the clairvoyant had said. 
Even now, as I look back, I am surprised that I did not; 
but her very personality was so repugnant • to me that it 
made any reflections on the subject additionally painful 
to the painful episodes that her communications recalled. 

Perhaps it was the gloominess of the weather, as I say, 
or the apparent danger that was beginning to threaten the 
country, or only the peril that my own life seemed com- 
passed by, that made me especially despondent, but I 
felt that I had reached a pass beyond which there was no 
going. I began to wonder, too, whether there could be 
any connection between these two assaults upon me and 
my supposed marriage. They must be in some way con- 
nected, I reasoned ; but how ? Such determined, outra- 
geous onslaughts as they were must have had some mo- 
tive far out of the ordinary behind them, and yet, if these 
assaults were connected with my marriage, could I hold 
Edna Dalzelle responsible in any way ? 1 resolutely cast 

the thought behind me. Indeed, the very danger I was 
environed by, and my loneliness in the world, made the 
recollection of that little woman especially welcome. 

From her standpoint, regarding me as her husband who 
had basely deserted her, what else could she have done } 
Her mistake was absurd, but, once admitting that mistake, 
her subsequent conduct was both logical and natural. 
Without a mother’s influence to guide her, v/ith only an 
old fool of a father, blindly subservient to her slightest 
whim, it was reasonable that she should have acted as 
she had, particularly taking into consideration her 


90 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


emotional and impulsive character. But how extraordi- 
nary that she should have made such a mistake, and 
afterwards how curious was her partial appreciation of it! 
Had I on my part, however, acted quite wisely ? Had I 
not, on the contrary, behaved with culpable weakness ? 
Did I not, on realizing my weakness, too, leave the house 
with an inordinate lack of ceremony? How must my 
departure have struck her after all her kindness and atten- 
tion, just after swearing, too, that I had actually married 
her ? But what would her next move be ? I wondered. 
Certainly nothing short of sending after me “a posse 
comitatus”; that was the only card she had left. And 
yet I felt very sad and depressed. The reaction after 
my late excitement had come. My reverie was broken 
by footsteps out in the hall. I started from my seat, 
for I had become very suspicious now of footsteps. It 
was only a hall boy, however, accompanying Mr. Dalzelle’s 
colored va'ct ; he was bringing back the clothes which I 
had used during my convalescence, and which the events 
of the past eighteen hours had caused me to forget to 
send for. 

Something in his manner led me to infer he had not 
come with the sole purpose of returning me my wardrobe. 
On questioning him closely, he became embarrassed. 

“It's madam, sir,” he admitted at last — “de young 
madam, who got took quite sudden jest after you went 
away. 'Deed, sir, I specs your goin' has quite done for 
her.” 

“ Done for her ! What ails her ?” I asked. 

“ Sure I doan know, sir. First she was took with a sort 
of fit ; after that she fell into a kind of a sort of a trance 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


91 


like. She’s still, sir — oh ! so still. She can’t breathe to 
blow a candle out.” 

I felt a sudden and bitter sensation of repentance. In all 
the wide, wide world I had not a soul that cared for me 
but her ; no eye would brighten at my approach, no lips 
would smile at my coming, no ear would quicken as my 
footsteps fell, but hers. Suppose it were an affection by 
proxy ? God ! Even that were better than none at all. I 
had been a cold, cynical observer of the world, apart, and 
forlorn. I had had my accursed reward. 

“ Lead on,” I said. “ I will go to her.” 


IX. 


I FOUND her father in his library, bowed down with grief, 
for he was weeping and his head was sunk in his nerveless 
hands. There is something terribly agitating to me in the 
tears of a man of any age, but in those of an old man 
something beyond what I can support. 

I touched him on the shoulder, for my entrance had 
failed to arouse him. He looked up, and taking my hand 
pressed it affectionately. I was not prepared for the 
change I noticed in him, nor for the manner of his recep- 
tion after my unceremonious departure of the previous 
day. His softness further drew me towards him, and I 
took a seat and made him enter into the particulars of his 
daughter’s illness. Thereupon I learned that when my 
departure had been communicated to her, she had 
been seized with a fit of hysteria, loudly accusing him, 
her father, of having driven me out of the house; that 
the colored servant had thereupon been sent out in hot 
haste for the first doctor he could find, and that he had 
apparently stumbled on Rebecca Seaton; that she had come 
in immediate response to the summons, and, after prac- 
ticing some mysterious rite upon his daughter, had indeed 
quieted her, but only to throw her into a state which the 
family physician on his arrival had pronounced to be coma. 
This gentleman had loudly declaimed against the presence 
of Rebecca on the score of her being an irregular practi- 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


93 


tioner, and it was only at his threat to throw up the case 
that she could be persuaded to withdraw. 

“ From certain expressions this woman dropped,” went 
on Mr. Dalzelle, I am inclined to suspect the poor child 
has been in the habit of consulting her before, and that 
my servant, knowing this, purposely called her in. I also 
believe that this clairvoyant, as she calls herself, is 
responsible in some way for my daughter’s hallucination 
concerning you.” 

“ Concerning me ?” 

Yes; that she filled her mind with the expectation of 
her real husband’s sudden return, and that she was thus 
ready to consider as such the first man who bore to him 
the slightest resemblance.” 

Hold on ! I have it !” I cried abruptly. 

“Have what, sir?” exclaimed the old gentleman, 
startled out of his sorrow. 

“ I mean that I remember now where I first heard the 
name of Rebecca Seaton. Your daughter mentioned her 
during the trial, and her doing so confirms your present 
suspicions.’’ 

“ I don’t recall the fact, but I regret extremely that any 
testimony of mine should have been instrumental in com- 
pleting your embarrassment,” he said. “ Would you not 
like to see her ?” 

I nodded my head, and he led me into her room. 
There she lay wnth her sightless eyes cast upward, and 
bearing not a few evidences of that longer sleep that knows 
no waking. Indeed, to a careless observer every sign 
of life was absent, for not the slightest movement could 
be detected. At the head of the bed sat a Sister of 


94 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


Charity, whose face was almost as white and impassive as 
the patient’s own. 

Her father pulled me away. 

“Even now it’s all over,” he muttered, and a convul- 
sive sob choked his utterance. 

“No, it is not all over,” I exclaimed decisively. 
“While there’s life there’s hope.” 

He wrung his hands. “ The doctor has just left, and, 
though he promised to return, he said that he feared his 
coming was useless.” 

“ Will you allow me the responsibility of seeing what 
can be done ?” I demanded. 

He looked up at me with new-found confidence. 

“You tell me,” I said, “ that your family physician 
has given her up ?” 

“ He has. A consultation between him and two of the 
first physicians of New York was held this morning; they 
decided she would never awake out of that state.” 

“ But if it was a condition the female physician had 
put her into/' I objected, “why did they not wait to see 
whether she could not get her out of it ?” 

“ They did all they could,” said Mr. Dalzelle weakly. 

“ Then in that case there is no harm in trying what 
she can do. I shall be back here before half an hour is 
up ” 

I went out, drawn as by a magnet, to Rebecca Seaton, 
who claimed to give relief where all other agencies 
had failed. It was still within the time of her office 
hours, and, the same boy with the dirty face and the ears 
like wings admitting me, I found her much the same 
mperturbable mass of flesh as before. The same mys- 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 95 

terious bottle, too, was making the same suspicious transit, 
as I entered, from the table to her voluminous pocket. 

The curious feature about my visit was, however, that 
before I addressed her a word on the subject she seemed 
to know exactly what had brought me. 

It ain’t no use,” she exclaimed. “ I won’t go back; I 
tell you it ain’t no use to ask me.” 

I opened my pocket-book and produced a crisp fifty- 
dollar bill. 

“This bill,” I said, “is yours if you come with me 
immediately. If you don’t, I tear it to pieces.” 

I had torn it in half before she moved. At my motion 
to reduce it to quarters she snatched it from my hand 
and rose. 

“ Have you got a cab, then ?” she asked. 

I answered in the affirmative. 

“ Theophilus,” she exclaimed, turning to the youth with 
the dirty face, as she affixed a soiled bonnet to her head, 
“ I’ll be back in just forty minutes. Have a sharp watch 
on things while I’m away, and mind you, don’t keep 
catchin’ flies on the winder panes; it don’t look perfes- 
sional.” 

Then we entered the cab, and all the time during the 
drive she was muttering disjointed reflections on the 
“bumptiousness of reg’lars,” which I construed as 
having reference to her treatment at the hands of the 
family doctor. Nevertheless, in spite of her vulgarity, 
her density, and her obstreperousness, she inspired me 
with confldence. 

Though both the nurse and Mr. Dalzelle appeared sur- 
prised to see that she had been willing to return, they 


96 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


offered no opposition to her entrance into the sick-cham- 
ber. Indeed, it struck me that in his weakness and dis- 
tress Mr. Dalzelle was only too ready to leave all respon- 
sibility in my hands. 

“ Now,” said the doctress, removing her bonnet, “ jest 
stand all of yez exactly where you are. Don’t yez mind 
nothin’ yez sees, but do jest what I tell yez; and when T 
tell yez, do it quick. If I hadn’t a strong affection 
for this yere sensitive, it ain’t all the money of the 
surplus that would have brought me back; but human 
natur’ is the same in the skin of a unregular. I’ll have 
you understand, as in that of the highest big-wig of the 
land.” 

Having delivered herself of this oration, she blew her 
nose indignantly and walked over toward the bedside. I 
shuddered as she approached; the contrast between hers 
and the fair form before her was so great that it made any 
contact a profanation. For a moment she stood fixedly 
regarding the patient, then she began to make passes over 
the latter’s head with her hands. For some two minutes 
there was not the slightest response, and my heart fairly 
stopped beating. At last, as she continued, a faint tremor 
of the eyelids became discernible in the girl, next the eyes 
themselves began to move in slow sympathy with the 
operator’s hands, and finally the fair head followed suit. 
I can liken it to nothing else than the movement of a 
beautiful and sensitive plant following the sun, far-fetched 
as the analogy is. At last the movement of the head 
was communicated to the patient’s body, and finally, as 
it was swaying backwards and forwards as the stem of 
a flower, the mesmerist pressed her thumb an instant 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


97 


on Edna’s forehead, clapped her hands, and at the noise 
the patient opened her eyes. 

For an instant she gazed about her dazedly, then, a 
smile of recognition illuminating her countenance, she 
closed them again and dropo^ into the arms of Nature’s 
sweet restorer, balmy sleep 


I WALKED home pondering on the strange sight I had j 
seen. Though I had hoped that Rebecca could relieve 
her, it was not until long afterwards that I learned the real j 
secret of Edna’s trance-like illness. Rebecca had simply 
hyonotized her, and then, being driven away, had left her 
in a condition of suspended animation. 

In ordinary cases of mesmerism, the patient would have 
wakened out of this unassisted ; but in Edna’s case her 
hypnotization had been preceded by violent hysteria, and, 
her vitality being therefore lowered, it had proved unequal 
to reassert itself. Thereupon it was necessary to have re- 
course to the same agency that had paralyzed it. In other 
words, her troubled soul, when weakened by its struggles, 
had been locked up and the key temporarily withdrawn; 
hence, unable to burst through, her spirit had remained 
imprisoned till the magic key was found and the portals 
unlocked. 

Mr. Dalzelle’s words about Rebecca Seaton went a 
long way to explain my own predicament. A sensitive, 
impulsive nature had been wrought upon by a designing 
woman who, though possessed of highly developed mes- 
meric powers, was in respect to her other pretensions, a 
sham. To rivet her hold upon her victim she had per- 
suaded her into the belief that her errant husband would 
return, and because I bore to him a resemblance more or 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


99 


less pronounced I had been seized upon by the deserted 
wife. But then if Rebecca’s claims as a clairvoyant were fic- 
titious, how account for that extraordinary revelation which 
she had made to me ? The only inference was that, as 
in many of her class, mesmeric power and trickery were 
so closely combined that it was impossible to distinguish 
where the one began and the other left off. 

Two weeks elapsed before I was permitted to see the 
patient again. 

You ask me, perchance, how I passed the intervening 
time. Have you ever read the “ Dame aux Camellias ” ? 
Well, I passed it much as the hero of that interesting ro- 
mance did — namely, in constant attention on the heroine’s 
door. The cup that escapes the lips is ever more tempt- 
ing, and the cup that had been so nearly snatched from 
mine seemed now especially sweet. 

What cared I if my course were illogical ? I threw logic 
to the winds. My abrupt departure had been the 
cause of her illness, and it flattered my pride while it 
filled me at the same time with bitter self-condemnation. 
During that interval I haunted the florists’ shops, and en- 
deavored to express in the sweet language of flowers the 
emotions that had begun to agitate my breast. Once 
more, if I must confess it, I was susceptible, a weak char- 
acter, but so was Julius Caesar, and even Napoleon him- 
self, where women were concerned. 

During this interval, because I could not see her I 
wanted to see her still more, and thus my thoughts and 
energies were drawn away from the prosecution of my 
search after my nocturnal intruder. To be sure, I visited 


100 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


the chief of the detective force frequently, but it was 
more from a sense of duty than any other motive, and I 
must admit I failed to press the case as I ought to have 
done. Indeed, I am convinced that they still regarded 
my story with grave suspicions, and my lack of en- 
ergy in following up matters probably confirmed them in 
their belief. 

During those two weeks I also visited Rebecca Seaton, 
but she either could not or would not give any further in- 
sight into her connection with Edna than I already had, 
namely, that she had long been in professional attendance 
on her. At last the morning came when Edna was well 
enough to receive me, and my patient waiting was re- 
warded. 

What a spiritual expression an illness gives a beautiful 
woman, however brief that illness be ! In her case this 
was conspicuously so. Her very character seemed to 
have changed ; her little caprices were toned down, her 
whims, andj if you please, her follies. 

She received me kindly, so kindly that I felt abashed. 
If I had any doubts as to my inclinations before, they 
were now removed. Some instinct, better, more innate 
than judgment, warned me not to speak of what had hap- 
pened. She extended me her hand from the lounge on 
which she was reclining, and left it as a welcome gift dur- 
ing my visit in my own hand. Ten minutes only had 
been accorded to me, and, though I ought to have been 
glad, a deep sadness seized me, blended in with the same 
old feeling of foreboding and presentiment. 

She appeared to read my thoughts, for drawing me to- 

'j- 


the romance op an alter ego. 


lOI 


wards her she said: “You see I wear your flower 
next my heart; have you ever thought that flowers are 
the souls of those we love ? See,” she continued, “ how 
easy it is to crush them; but you would never kill what 
you could not replace.” 

I tried to change the subject, and with a perverse stu- 
pidity into which, as I have mentioned before, I always 
fall when I am at a loss for conversation, I got upon the 
weather. I said something about the brightness of the 
day and the glorious sunlight streaming into the room. 

“Yes,” she returned, “it is very bright, but all bright 
things seem to fade.” 

“Not if they are good,” I continued, with forced cheer- 
fulness. 

“Yes, the good fades too,” she observed ; then, with 
a smile that was like the ghost of her former vivacity, 
“ but, on that score, some of us ought to be perennial.” 

A long pause ensued. 

“ Do you know,” she resumed at last, “I think I read 
things more truly now since my illness : I mean I see 
them in their real light.” 

“What things?” I inquired densely. 

She turned away her head, instead of replying to my 
question. 

“There, there,” she said, after a little pause “you 
must leave me now, but you will come back again, will you 
not ?” and she retained my hand, though I had got up to 
go. “You will forgive me for all the embarrassment I 
have caused you, and you will not entirely forget me 

I don’t know exactly what I said, but, if I remember 


102 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


aright, I swore lustily that I could never forget her. 
There were tears in my eyes, I’m sure, and I think I used 
strong language to divert her attention from them. 

I stooped down to kiss her, and she raised her face to 
meet my lips with the sweet simplicity of a child. 

As I was leaving the house, her father beckoned me 
into the library. 

“ What do you think of her ?” he asked anxiously. “ Do 
you notice any change in her ?” 

I passed over his question as well as I could. His next 
remark was equally significant. 

‘‘ If I were in your place,” he said, “ I should avoid any 
allusion to the past. It might throw her back, and at all 
events would agitate her.” 

I had instinctively recognized the same thing, as the 
reader is aware. In a manner she had herself touched 
upon the past, but that was different from my doing so. 

“ Now,” he resumed, “ allow me to ask you one more 
question. • As I have already told you, I am assured that 
you never married my daughter, but I have sometimes 
thought lately that, in spite of the extraordinary position 
she has placed you in, her illness has in some slight de- 
gree drawn you towards her. At least your devotions 
and your attentions during her convalescence would so 
argue. I don’t ask in mere idle curiosity,” he continued, 
seeing me hesitate. 

“Well, suppose your impressions are correct?” I an- 
swered. 

“ In that case, I deem it only fitting to say that I intend 
to move her down into the country to a little place we have 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


103 


on the Sound, and to which we usually resort much earlier 
in the season. Then, after she has regained her usual 
health, I will advise her to apply to the divorce courts to 
break the ties by which she is bound, or at least to have 
her marriage annulled. I suppose it could be easily 
managed on the score of desertion and failure to support.” 

“ But what becomes of me when you take her away ?” 
I asked, with an injured, hopeless air. 

Of you ? Well, you might come down and visit her 
occasionally; or stay ! if you are really anxious to continue 
your acquaintance with us, I might procure you a room 
at a farm house closely adjoining my place.” 

I think the old gentleman had really got to look upon 
me as a belonging, and was as anxious in the matter as I 
was myself. 

The proposal struck me as a happy one ; it promised re- 
lief and quiet, which I needed sorely after the terrible 
strain I had been under. 

“ How soon would you propose going?” I asked. 

“To-morrow or next day; indeed, I am anxious 1 1 get her 
away as soon as possible. There is no saying what all 
this labor agitation may develop into, and I would not like 
to have her in the city during any trouble. Besides the 
doctor thinks the present hot weather retards her recovery. 
I could put her on the boat which lands us very near our 
place, and she would even be more comfortable than on a 
train. By the way,” he added after a pause, “ I want to 
ask you something I have long had on my mind. Have 
you ever known of any one who bore a striking resemblance 
to you ? Search your memory, now.” 


104 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


“ No, sir, there is no one,” I answered, with a shade of 
hesitation — “no one, at least, who is now alive.” 

“ Well, then,” he continued, hitting on the female phy- 
sician, when strangely enough I was just thinking of her 
myself, “ I suppose the only solution is, as I have already 
intimated, that Rebecca Seaton, in her character of a clair- 
voyant, predicted to my daughter that her husband 
would return, and the poor child, believing it, seized upon 
the first man that looked anything like him.” 

“ But that would hardly explain your own testimony,” 
I objected, with a tinge of maliciousness. “You swore 
that you recognized me, and therefore the resemblance 
must have been phenomenal.” 

“My dear sir, I am quite an old man; you know how 
brief the courtship was, and that I never saw this man 
more than half a dozen times in my life. On these occa- 
sions my notice was not particularly directed to him. Why 
should it have been ? I had no idea that his attentions 
meant anything more than the ordinary civilities a youn^ 
man pays to a pretty girl.” 


XXI. 


It was three days before Mr. Dalzelle put his plan of 
leaving the city with his daughter into execution. 

At his suggestion I did not see her again before her 
departure, and I further agreed to wait until I received 
a letter from him before following him down into the 
country. 

He engaged in the interval to make all the necessary 
arrangements for me at the farm house, which he assured 
me was barely a quarter of a mile from his residence and 
with the grounds also running down to the water. 

Ah! ladies, I have learned to appreciate that it is rather 
your titillating absence than your presence that at- 
tracts. 

Regret; it is stated, remains with those who stay behind. 
Until now I had hardly appreciated the hold this woman 
had secured upon me. If she had not twined herself about 
my heart, she had certainly filled a gap in my existence, 
and I felt that her fate was bound up with mine. The 
change in her of which I have spoken, while assuredly no- 
ticeable to any one, had perhaps been more so to me. Pos- 
sibly at first I had had a tendency to exaggerate her way- 
wardness, and now, looking at her through different eyes, 
I was prone to idealize her the more. 

That Rebecca Seaton should have persuaded her that 
105 


Io6 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

her husband would one of these days return was quite 
within the province of a clairvoyant, and this might very 
well account for the assurance with which she had pressed 
her claims, and also a certain lack of delicacy, if you like, 
that had stamped her conduct. 

I would try to make her change the affection she too 
evidently yet bore for her betrayer, to me, who would ap- 
preciate it better. But what if this man should actually 
come back ? I had never before thought of that contin- 
gency. Suppose he should return with some good and 
sufficient excuse for his absence, a sort of Enoch Arden, 
if not to find his wife wedded, at all events being courted 
by another man ? 

The days dragged very slowly, and still no letter came. 
What did it mean ? Had I been forgotten ? For one whole 
week I waited, and still no message. On the afternoon of 
the eighth day I decided to run down to Coney Island 
for the night. 

I took the ferry at Thirty-fourth street, and shuddered 
as I recollected my experience on probably this very same 
boat, and my narrow escape from drowning. There were 
five hearses with their attendant train of carriages on board, 
and their several drivers were swearing lustily at each other 
because of the crowding. Indeed, the late strike of the 
hearse drivers had been decided in favor of the bosses, 
and left the men in consequence testy and morose. 

Because of the recent termination of this trouble, a 
large percentage of persons had been deprived of their 
usual recreation, for, judging from the length of our fun- 
eral corteges alone, I believe that melancholy is a domi- 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


107 


nant trait with us as a people, and that it is this which 
causes the great mass of us to regard the attendance at a 
funeral as our only justifiable indulgence. It is a relic 
of our Puritanism that is continually cropping out, making 
us take our other pleasures, when we do take them, in a 
self-reproachful spirit and as if we were doing something 
we ought not, that finds its culmination in the belief that 
everything agreeable to the palate is injurious, and every- 
thing agreeable to the senses immoral. 

At all events I could not help reflecting on the singular 
fact that this ferry should be at once the great roadway 
to the principal pleasure resort of Long Island, and at the 
same time that of the largest cemetery we have. Perhaps 
it is well, after all, and these numerous reminders of our 
dissolution at the outset of our holidays play the part of 
the proverbial death’s head at the Egyptian feast. Would 
that I could have accepted the warning! Alas, alas! 

I arrived at Coney Island along with an immense throng, 
and as comfortable as could be expected under the cir- 
cumstances — a stout old lady persisting in sitting in 
my lap during the journey, and in some miraculous 
manner keeping her elbow the while fixed in my eye. Un- 
til dinner, I amused myself among the booths, and admired 
at a respectful distance the huge elephant that presides 
with such solemn dignity over the scene. If I had come 
down for rest, however, I was disappointed. Such a com- 
bination of outrageous noises I never heard — snapping of 
saloon rifles, of guns, and of fire-crackers, shouts of bus- 
drivers, of fortune-tellers, and creakings of merry-go- 
rounds, organ grinders grinding away on their organs. 


Io8 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

and bands of music each playing a different tune ; whist- 
lings, bangings, tootings, and crowds of people as at a 
world’s fair. Just off shore, at less than two hundred 
yards’ distance, a large sloop, with “Tarrant’s Seltzer 
Aperient ” painted on her sail, kept sailing backwards and 
forwards and discharging a cannon every time she tacked. 

I stood it all as long as my nerves would permit, and then 
retreated to the hotel, only to find, alas! the change little for 
the better. These huge summer caravansaries are mere 
sounding-boards, and if any one so much as lets a sneeze 
escape him in the attic, it goes vibrating and re-echoing 
till it reaches the cellar. 

In the great hall of my domicile, or so closely connect- 
ed that it might fairly be considered a part of the hall^ 
trains thundered in every ten minutes, and disgorged 
their passengers, the tramping of whose feet made a run- 
ning rather than a walking accompaniment to the strains of 
a string band of a thousand pieces just outside. When 
to this pandemonium was added the tramp of the full 
Seventh Regiment marching into supper with a brass band, 
I resigned my key at the office, and took the first train 
back to town. The number of the apartment which I had 
given up was 13 — please remember that. I noticed it par- 
ticularly because the day of the month was the 13th and 
the day of the week was Friday. 

Now, while I had taken my departure because of other 
considerations than these, I could not help thinking on 
my way back that after all I had acted wisely in refusing 
to tempt Providence under such a curious combination of 
so-called coincidences, and as if to give point to these re- 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


109 

flections, I unexpectedly met Rebecca Seaton on the train, 
who looked at me stolidly, and vouchsafed not the 
slightest recognition. Arrived in New York, I found 
compensation for all my miseries in a brief note from 
Mr. Dalzelle, proposing that I should take the boat on 
the following day and join him in the country. 

Punctual to the hour he named, I found myself the 
next afternoon at the wharf, and soon afterwards em- 
barked for Rocky Point. 

Though I was unprepared for the beauty of the trip, I 
was yet surprised at the premature decay that seemed to 
have settled on the shores of the Sound whenever we ap- 
proached sufficiently near to permit me to observe them. 
Rotting wharves, dilapidated hotels, and broken-down 
summer houses loudly spoke the pride of better days. 

“It is the curse of the mortgage,” explained a fellow- 
passenger, “the primary state to destruction, harsher 
than the condition of landlord and tenant, because entirely 
lacking in those personal relations that go so far to miti- 
gate and assuage the last.” 

I was met at the landing by Mr. Dalzelle. He told me, 
much to my relief, that his daughter had been already im- 
proved by the change of air, and instead of stopping first 
at the quarters which he had retained for me, he took me 
over to show me his own place. And a prettier, quainter 
abode than I found it can’t be imagined. Built consider- 
ably before the Revolution, it was painted a rich though 
subdued red, and was fairly embowered in creeping vines. 
Trees of great age were on every side, and threw their 
long shadows over the closely trimmed lawn. Such a 


I.IO 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


bower of rest, such a snug little old-time retreat from the 
noise and bustle of the world, I had never met with before. 
All spelled peace ; even the barns and out-houses. Into 
these last a boy was driving a herd of lowing Alderneys, 
and every no*v and then one of them would stop to nib- 
ble the grass, when a brisk little terrier, loudly barking, 
would fly out from some mysterious retreat and try to 
nibble their hoofs. All spelled peace, quiet, and repose, 

Looking between the trees towards the Sound, the sui> 
was just sinking in a blaze of glory, painting up the saiL 
of passing vessels with radiant colors and turning the 
waters into one vast field of liquid gold. Looking shore- 
wards, the land gradually ascended and rolled away in 
gently undulating fields into the soft distance, while the 
whole face of nature was suffused with that sudden flush 
of serene and more than earthly beauty, to which we some- 
times find a faint counterpart in the faces those that 
die in harmony with God. 

There always seems to me a peculiar soUmnity in the 
beauty of eventide that raises man nearer to his Creator. 
Even as a child I used to recognize it, auA attribute it to 
the blessing He was breathing over the Jcpaiting day. 

I had left the renewal of my acquaintance with Edna 
very largely in Mr. Dalzelle’s hands, ^nd as he deemed it 
wiser that 1 should postpone seeing her till the morrow, 
he conducted me along the beach to my lodgings, where 
he bade me good-night. Plain us my domicile proved, 
how much more congenial to my taste I found it (as I sat 
down on the veranda and lighted a contemplative cigar) 
than the hideous caravansaries whither the great hosts of 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


Ill 


summer travel flock, where your individuality is merged 
in a number, where magnitude excuses worth, and noise 
and confusion are the only things you get. How great 
was the contrast between this place and that huge shingle 
palace at Coney Island from which I had fled the pre- 
vious night ! 


XXII. 


I ASKED Mr. Crummels, my host, to wake me early next 
day, but was scarcely prepared for the interpretation he 
put on my request. It was considerably before daylight, 
I remember that, and I have an indistinct recollection of 
using some pretty “steep” language to him when he did 
summon me. Not for three hours later did I get up, and, 
to while away the time till I could pay my respects to 
Edna, I proposed that he should show me about his prop- 
erty. This he finally consented to do, and in the course 
of conversation I learned that the farm was really a de- 
pendency of Mr. Dalzelle, who had been compelled to buy 
it in for the mortgage. Thus Mr. Crummels, by a slow pro- 
cess of evolution unfortunately becoming too frequent, 
had changed from a land owner to a mortgagor, and from 
that into a tenant. 

The special pride of Mr. Crummels was an old gray 
horse called Thomas, which he led into the farm yard for 
my delectation. 

“He ain’t like some of your flash city critters,” he ob- 
served apologetically — ‘‘all fuss and feathers, and that 
step as if they had the spring halt all round; but he’s a 
rare one to go.” 

Mr. Thomas acknowledged this compliment with a 
whisk of his tail, and a movement that I perhaps wrongfully 

II2 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. II3 

interpreted into a surreptitious effort to reach my knee 
with his hind hoof. 

‘‘ It’s only his sport,” continued the owner, with the 
air of a father atoning for some little delinquency of his 
son. And after consigning the horse to his stall, he 
showed me a buggy, somewhat in need of paint, which he 
informed me would be at my service along with the 
quadruped at any time I wished to make use of them. 

Towards mid-day I walked over to Mr. Dalzelle’s to 
pay my visit to Edna, and found her on the veranda 
which overlooked the water. She was reclining in a ham- 
mock, and half rose as I approached ; a slight flush 
mantled her cheek, and she had more of her old look, her 
bright sparkle, and her general sunniness. 

As for me, I felt the same curious shyness steal over me 
that I had experienced the last time I saw her, but I took 
her hand, and raised it to my lips. 

“ You’ve been very kind to me,” she said, “and par- 
ticularly to come so far to see me. Now tell me,” she 
continued: “will you forgive me for all I’ve made you go 
through ?” 

I tried to pass my arm about her waist, but she gently 
disengaged it. 

“No,” she said, “you must not do that. I see things 
truer now. I recognize the absurd, nay, the cruel position 
I have put you in. During that brief illness when I lay 
there tossing about, I saw pictured to me in my delirium 
your true situation, and I recognized at last that you were 
not my husband at all.” 

Though she had intimated the same before, she had 
not yet definitely stated it. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


II4 


“ It was a very hard position for a woman to find her- 
self placed in, too,” she went on — to realize the ignominy 
she had drawn upon herself, to experience the shame and 
despair that the violation of all her womanly instincts 
should have caused ” — her emotions were gradually rising 
and asserting themselves; “and yet if you could know 
how hard it was to be deserted !“ 

“ Yes, I know that experience,” I answered. 

“ You do ?” 

“Yes, when you left New York and were away from 
me.” 

She dropped her eyes as she resumed: 

“I deemed it right to tell you all this, hard as it is 
for me to do so. You have acted as a high-principled, 
honorable man alone could, and have treated me only too 
considerately under extraordinary provocation. Indeed, 
when I realize what you must think of me, “she continued, 
“ I am filled with shame and embarrassment.” 

“ But think only of the happiness you cause me now — 
the happiness to be near you. No other woman can make 
me happy, no other woman can I ever care for. I love 
you,” I continued, carried away by my passion, ‘and you 
alone; I love you because of all your trouble, because of 
all the bitter anguish and shame I, on the contrary, have 
caused you to feel.” 

She got up excitedly. 

“But suppose he should come back! Yes, yes, I 
care for you — at least I think I do,” she continued. 
“ I cared for you from the first because of your resem- 
blance to one I firmly believed I had the right to love. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


II5 


But what would your position, my position be, should 
he suddenly return ?” She looked about her with a ter- 
rified, furtive glance that alarmed me also. 

“But he never will !” I exclaimed. “ His long deser- 
tion of you can only be accounted for by his death.” 

“ Then we ought to wait, for until I am assured of this 
my allegiance is to him. Yes, in spite of everything with 
which you can justly charge me, in spite of the glaring 
lack of logic of my position; as I told you before, I would 
feel that you would be but half my husband, as long as 
he could also claim me; I would feel that my affections 
had been stolen through your resemblance to him, and 
that even now you hardly ought to be here; indeed, I 
scarcely think I should have consented to your coming 
had I not wished to tell you all this once again.” 

“ But, after all that has occurred, you will not drive me 
away?” I said. 

“ What good can result from your staying? Nay, only 
harm, danger to us both !” 

“ Let me stay and I will take care of the danger; the 
greatest privilege I ask is to be near you !” 

She thought for a moment, then, with one of those 
bright, sudden changes that were habitual to her, “ I will 
let you stay on one consideration,” she said. 

“And what is that ?” I asked. 

“ That you won’t even — even — ” 

“ Even what ?” 

“ Even kiss me !” Whereupon she broke away from me 
and left the veranda. 


XXIII. 


What a new zest to life the affection for a beautiful 
woman gives ! As I look back now on that period, I 
count those days as bright pearls on the string of time. 
Ah! if I could only linger and describe each one in turn ! 
But accursed Fate is on my track and obliges me to hurry 
on. That she tolerated my presence, that she acquiesced 
in my devotions, that she even herself reciprocated my 
affections, I had no doubt; and yet as time went on and I 
got to know her better, she only puzzled me the more. It 
was not alone that her moods were variable; this I deemed 
natural in the extraordinary position she found herself 
in. It was not alone that she permitted me to remain by 
her side without any distinct understanding as to my po- 
sition and our mutual relations one to the other. But it 
was that she began to evince for me a kind of dread, or, 
if not exactly a dread of myself, of some power, as it were, 
that I unsuspectingly possessed — a dread that she en- 
deavored to control and to conceal from me, and yet which 
struggled with her augmenting affection, just as if I 
were cursed with the evil eye without knowing it. Some- 
times, too, she would display in her conversation a mor- 
bidness that would make me actually shudder, a moment, 
after gliding on to subjects which she would discuss with 
an eloquence and a power almost masculine. One day, 

ii6 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. II7 

as we were out sketching in a boat, she looked up from 
her drawing-block. 

“They say there is a person confined in the attic of 
that house who has never seen the light of day for forty 
years. Some think that he is crazy, others that he really 
owns the property and is chained up to a post in order to 
prevent his asserting his rights. ’ Do you believe it ?" 

“I believe anything you tell me,” I answered for want 
of a better reply. 

“Suppose I told you that dead people came back to 
life — I mean in this world; would you believe that?” 

“ Well, I must confess I’d have to stretch my credulity.” 

“I saw a corpse once washed up just there on the 
beach, and the recollection has pursued me to this very 
day. Have you ever thought how awful it would be to be 
buried alive ?” 

“Upon my word, Edna, you’ve selected a cheerful 
series of topics fora picnic,” I retorted. “Couldn’t you 
try another vein ?” 

She laughed quietly. 

“ Very well, then, have you ever thought whatacurious 
reflection on human nature it is that those pursuits are 
the most delightful that draw us most out of ourselves?” 

“That’s better; but why is it a curious reflection on 
human nature ?” I asked. “ Why is it not natural ?” 

“ What I mean is, that we are not constituted happy by 
nature; we must always be doing something to be happy, 
and what causes us the most exquisite enjoyment is the 
very thing which is the least connected with our own per- 
sonality.” 


Il8 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

“ I think happiness consists in basking in the sunshine 
of someone else’s personality,” I returned — “ that is, if the 
some one else is the right personality.” 

She smiled as she pushed back from her forehead the 
dark, rippling hair. 

“Perhaps so,” she said; “and yet don’t you think hap- 
piness would have robbed the world of all its great men ? 
If Napoleon had been happy, or even contented, would 
he ever have had the spur to make him great ?” 

“What’s the use of great men ?” I answered. “The 
world has grown tired of setting people up on a pinnacle, 
and then standing off at a respectful distance in open- 
mouthed admiration. We have become' too democratic 
even to permit of men rising above the general level in 
aught but wealth.” 

“ If I were a man,” she exclaimed, “ I would be ambi- 
tious to make the world happier. Take all this agitation 
between the rich and poor; do you not think it is based 
on this very struggle for wealth that you speak of ? The 
other day I picked up the ‘ Memoirs of Madam Le Brun,’ 
the painter. She gave a graphic picture of the opening of 
the French Revolution, which she remembered as a little 
girl. I sometimes think we are now on the eve of another 
revolution, which, when it comes, will even exceed that 
in violence. It will not be against the aristocracy, be- 
cause we have none; but it will be against the rich of 
whom we have too many.” 

“Then let us be united when it does come,” I said, 
and my arm crept round her waist, and I attempted to 
reach her lips with mine. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. II9 

My touch always caused her extreme agitation. She 
pushed me back from her and looked furtively over the 
waters with that same stealthy, frightened air I had 
noticed before. I thought I read in it the conflict be- 
tween duty and inclination, since any reference by me to 
a closer union always caused like agitation. It would 
have been a very simple affair, I argued, for her to consent 
that steps should be taken to have her former ties dis- 
solved, yet, anxious as I was for her to do so, I recognized 
that this was a subject that I must not discuss, great as 
was my interest in doing so. 

Thus the days glided on, each one drawing me nearer, 
little by little, to that grand climacteric reserved for bitter 
and for sweet things alike. 


XXIV. 


In spite of the simplicity of his manner of living, Mr. 
Dalzelle's interests were extensive and of the most di- 
versified character, and these, in the unsettled condition 
of all commercial and industrial pursuits, required his 
daily attention in the city. Thus I was thrown more than 
I otherwise might have been in Edna’s society, and conse- 
quently saw him but seldom till evening or late in the 
afternoon. 

On his return from the boat, he would frequently stop 
at my quarters, however, to pay me a visit, often insisting 
on my accompanying him home to dinner for a game of 
whist. 

It was the afternoon that closed the first fortnight of my 
arrival here that he stopped at the farm-house door, bring- 
ing the evening papers with him in the back of his 
buggy. 

“They’ll have something else to talk about again 
than the doctrines of Henry George,” he said. 

“ And what’s that ?’’ I asked, as I rose to meet him. 

“Why, the Coney Island murder," he answered. 
“ They’ve at last got a clue.” 

“The Coney Island murder ?" I repeated, with some 
curiosity. 


7SO 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


I2I 


‘‘Yes; the one that occurred a couple of weeks ago. 
Didn’t you hear about it ?” 

“Since I have been down here,” I replied, “I have 
turned my back on the world and its doings. I haven’t 
even looked at a paper.” 

“ Then I’ll leave this one with you now; it gives a 
resume of the crime. Don’t forget that the whist club 
meets to-night at my house; so come around early, my 
boy. Ta, ta !” 

He deposited the papers in my hand and started off 
again in his buggy. I watched him as he went up the 
lane, the yellow wheels of his trap glistening in the sun- 
light through the dust, and the trees making a complete 
arch over his head. 

The mention of Coney Island had caught my ear, and 
rather because of this than any keen desire to resume 
my acquaintance with the affairs of the universe, I open- 
ed the sheet and spread it out upon my knees as I sat 
down on the steps of the piazza. I had no difficulty in 
finding the place, the letters being as large as ever and 
the alliteration certainly as startling. 

“ Clue to the Coney Island Crime !” the para- 
graph was headed. 

“ The Mystery at the Morton Manifestly a 
Murder.” 

“ Suspicion Strongly Settles on Samuel S. Smith as 
THE Assassin of the Occupant of Room No. 13.” 

Why, that was the very room that had been assigned me 
the night of my visit at Coney Island, and which I had 
given up. The hotel was the same also. I felt a decided 


122 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


increase of interest, and running my eye down the page 
to where the history of the crime was given in greater de- 
tail, I learned that a certain New Jersey politician had 
been found at the Morton Hotel, lying stiff and cold in 
room No. 13, with a dirk sticking in his throat. His 
watch and a considerable sum of money in bills had been 
left untouched by the side of his bed on which he was ly- 
ing, showing conclusively that the motive had been other 
than theft. 

“ The reason for suspicion centering on this man 
Smith,” the paper went on to state, “ is that subsequent 
investigations have revealed the fact that he had been an 
applicant for an office which had been in the gift of the 
dead man. On the disposal of this office to another per- 
son Smith had been openly heard to threaten the life of 
the deceased, or at least to vow that he would * fix ’ 
him. 

“ This threat,” continued the report, was made on 
July 12. It was late on the following evening that the 
unfortunate gentleman arrived at Coney Island and se- 
cured his room at the hotel. He was found on the 
morning of the 14th dead.” 

I rose to my feet in great agitation. 

“ Found on the morning of the 14th !” Not only, then, 
was the room mine, but that was the very morning that I 
would have been there had I stayed over-night ! 

As by a twist of a mirror the whole situation was re- 
vealed to me and what I had escaped. This man had 
been murdered in my stead ; I was sure of it. The story 
about the office seeker was absurd, for disappointment in 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


123 


securing a small place under the government could hardly 
impel a man to such a deed. I had been tracked 
down to the hotel ; my abrupt departure back to town had 
escaped the notice of the assassins, and the politician had 
walked into the pitfall prepared for me. At least the 
previous attempts on my life would justify such an inter- 
pretation of the event. 

If this were so, how long would it be before the mis- 
take was discovered ? Thank God! my name had not fig- 
ured in any of the reports, and I remembered now, with a 
sincere feeling of congratulation, that I had neglected to 
register on arriving at the hotel, and that, through the care- 
lessness of the clerk, I had not been reminded of my omis- 
sion. But would they not unearth me at last, and follow 
up their attempt with a more successful effort ? How 
soon would they break in upon my quiet retreat here ? 

I suppose my proper course would have been to have 
gone immediately to the city and have explained to the au- 
thorities the reason I had for supposing that the assassina- 
tion had been really intended for me ; showing how this 
very room had been assigned to me, and how at the last 
moment I had changed my mind about remaining over- 
night. I was, however, unequal to the occasion. It 
would necessarily involve bringing up the circumstances 
of the lawsuit again and the delicate relations I stood 
to Edna. My name had escaped mention, and until 
the suspected assassin was apprehended and seemed 
in danger of punishment, I would devote my entire 
energies to her. My courtship was already sufficiently 
complicated as it was, and this last was but one ad- 


124 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


ditional link in the inexplicable chain of events that was 
gradually winding about me. 

I remembered the invitation of Mr. Dalzelle, and, 
though I anticipated in my present mood little pleasure 
from the party, I dressed myself and decided to go as 
soon as I had finished dinner. 

As the evening was overcast and it promised to be 
darker later on, I requested Mr. Crummels to come for 
me at half-past ten punctually with a lantern. You smile, 
and you have reason; but I had become so nervous and 
depressed that I dreaded the black shadows of night like 
2V very child. 


XXV. 


When I reached my destination I found the company 
assembled in the drawing room, and the general bright- 
ness and cheerfulness of the scene removed my thoughts 
from the sinister turn they had taken. 

The party consisted of the minister of the neighboring 
church, the village squire, a college professor with green 
spectacles, and four other gentlemen, making up the 
complement of two tables. They were already seated, 
and Edna, in a white muslin dress open at the neck, 
and a wide blue satin sash, was moving about from one 
table to the other. 

Several of the gentlemen were smoking, and, as they had 
not yet settled down to business, they were all laugh- 
ing and chatting. Altogether I hardly ever remember to 
have witnessed a brighter, cheerier scene. The room, 
with its red paper, its red shades, and its well-trimmed 
lamps, is cut in my memory like a bright little ruby in 
cameo. 

As there were just two sets at the tables, I found my- 
self disengaged, and took my seat on a sofa, where Edna 
soon afterwards joined me. 

“My father has these little parties every two weeks,” 
she explained; ‘‘ they will draw you in later for a hand.” 

135 


126 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


‘‘I am too well off where I am,” I answered, ^'to 
make that prospect attractive.” 

“ Oh! but you must play,” she cried, if only for 
papa’s sake. Do play when he asks you, and let him 
abuse your game. It gives him so much pleasure.” 

“ I have often thought,” I laughed, “ that a reputation 
for good whist playing could be acquired by simply abus- 
ing your partner. Never mind what he does, or does not 
do, always find fault with his play. It immediately puts 
him in an attitude of defense, which is in itself a weak 
one, and draws off attention from your own play.” 

“ I’ve noticed that, too,” she cried, “and I always adopt 
the plan when papa makes me play double dummy. You 
see I play very badly also.” 

“ Don’t you think we both ought to learn to play well ?” 
I asked more seriously. “ I’ll come around to-morrow at 
eleven, and we’ll practice double dummy together all day. 
It will please your father so to have us develop into ex- 
perts,” I added slyly. 

Instead of smiling, her manner suddenly changed. 

“ Oh ! no, not to-morrow,” she cried, with a startled 
tone. “ You must not come to-morrow under any circum- 
stances; I quite forgot to tell you. Now promise me that 
you won’t ?*’ 

“ But why not?” I demanded, with an injured air. 

“ Oh! but you mustn’t. Now do go to New York to- 
morrow just for the day !” 

I was about to put in an earnest protest against this 
easy disposal of my time when I was summoned, as she 
had predicted I would be, to cut into the game. I was 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 127 

therefore compelled to leave her, and like a lamb was led 
unwillingly to the sacrifice. As regards my game, I need 
only say that I did as much for Mr. Dalzelle (who, on the 
score of my education, persisted in retaining me all the 
evening for his partner) as a series of bad hands and a fit 
of absent-mindedness caused by Edna’s words would al- 
low. At the conclusion of the last rubber my host, who 
had severely criticised my skill all the way through, had 
the consideration to acknowledge that one play of mine 
had been extremely scientific. 

** I suppose,” he said encouragingly, “ that you led that 
card because you thought I had the queen ?” 

‘‘On the contrary,” I unguardedly acknowledged, “I 
led it because I thought you did not have the queen.” 
Thereupon my monitor raised his hands with his usuaV 
gesture of exaggerated despair, and the party broke up in 
the midst of good-humored hilarity at my expense. 

I remained until the guests had departed, but could 
get no explanation from Edna as to her strange conduct ; 
she, however, accompanied me to the door, and then, as if 
relenting, she whispered, “ Though you must not come to- 
morrow, the whole of the day after is yours.” 

Somewhat relieved by her last words, I bade her good- 
night, and turned to Mr. Crummels, whom I found await- 
ing me with his lantern. 

I had before now detected in Mr. Crummels a keen in- 
terest in regard to the relations I bore to his landlord’s 
daughter, and the fact that she let me out raised my 
suspicions that he might broach the subject on the walk 
back. 


128 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


Mr. Crummels never went direct to a point, but always 
tried to work up to it by a circuitous and lengthy path. To 
start him on a different tack at the outset, however, I re- 
marked on the long continuation of the drought, and my 
recfrets that the prospects of rain seemed likely to be un- 
fulfilled. 

“ Wall, you’re jist like all the rest of the folks here- 
abouts,” he somewhat bluntly replied. “ They’re never 
satisfied with nuthin’. First it’s rain they wants, then 
it’s sunshine. As for me, I leaves the matter of weather in 
the hands of the Almighty, and lets him run it to suit 
hisself.” 

I nodded my head in approbation of this considerate 
conduct, and we had arrived at the beach before he again 
resumed. 

‘‘Yes,” he continued, as we walked along the shore, 
“take the squire who was up there to-night, he’s never 
content neither; while as for the minister, he’s always try- 
ing to prod on the Creator to suit his own purpose. This 
yere spring, jist because he was backward in gettin’ in his 
pertaters, he prays for wet, and right off durin’ service up 
jumps the squire and tells him he was takin’ an unfair ad- 
vantage of the rest of the congregation, for they was sat- 
isfied to let the hot spell run on till they had sown their 
oats. But my daughters” — here Mr. Crummels stopped 
to light a short clay pipe — “ my daughters gives me a heap 
more trouble, though, than the weather. That’ they be 
a-poundin’ on that pianny that I bought ’em, from early 
mornin’ till ole Abe drives the cattle in at night. Fust 
it’s ‘ In the Sweet By and By ’ they plays, or * In the 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


129 


Prison Cell I sit, Thinking Mother Dear of You !’ Sez I, 
If it’s thinking so much of your mother, I wouldn’t be settin 
around ar all, but I’d be up and taking some of the work 
off her hands, and helpin’ her to do the cookin’.” 

To judge from Mr. Crummels’ remarks, one might well 
infer that he was a perfect paragon of industry. In 
point of fact the entire farm was run by hired help,” 
and I have reason to suspect that Mr. Dalzelle had as 
much difficulty in collecting his revenues from it as he 
originally had to collect the interest on his mortgage. 
My silent reflection, however, had not interrupted the 
train of Mr. C.’s thoughts. 

“I suppose, howsomever, you’ll behavin’ daughters your- 
self one of these days,” he observed after a pause, “ so I 
mustn’t discourage you. Seein’ the minister, too, ’round at 
Mr. Dalzelle’ s sot me thinkin’ that you might be callin’ 
on him before long to make that daughter question pos- 
sible ?” 

Thereupon Mr. Crummels began to inspect his lantern, 
as if he feared that it was about to go out. 

The subject had been so skillfully worked up to that I 
was taken quite aback. I only avoided it by awkwardly 
changing to an entirely different topic, the first one that 
entered my head. 

“Talking about Mr. Dalzelle,” I said, he happened 
to mention once that the cellar under your house was 
quite remarkable. Indeed, I think he told me that your 
grandfather, having been struck three times by lightning, 
accepted 'the warning as from Heaven, and built himself 
a retreat in case of thunder storms.” 


130 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


Mr. Crummels laughed. I don’t take much stock in 
these yere stories,” he said, ‘‘ for, if the truth was known, 
I guess it had more to do with the distillin’ of whisky 
on the sly. It’s a famous cellar, though, for storin’ apples 
in, and if you’d like to see it I’ll take yer down on the 
morrer and give yer a look at it.” 

I expressed my readiness to accompany him, and, as 
we had by this time reached home, I thanked him for his 
pains and retired for the night. 


XXVI. 


What a curious thing is fate, and by what odd instru- 
ments it often works out its most tragic results! 

Though, as the reader is aware, I had proposed to Edna 
an early rendezvous for to-day, she had strangely enough 
excused herself, and consequently, having nothing in par- 
ticular to do, I fell an early prey to Mr. Crummels. In- 
deed, I am persuaded that he gave up the whole of his 
morning’s work under the sole pretext of showing me 
that cellar. Instead of a cellar, however, it was rather a 
series of subterranean passages that led away from it 
into regions of unknown darkness beyond the area of the 
house. They bore the marks of considerable antiquity, 
and were stored, as well as the eye could distinguish, with 
apples. 

^'Yes, it’s a heap of a cellar, ain’t it?” my host re- 
marked contemplatively. ‘‘ My Guy ! I remember as a 
boy, when I used to be obstreperous, the ole man would 
put me in here to keep company with the spooks. A 
cellar is very much like a woman, it’s deep and it’s dark. 
But this yere one lays over ’em all; for never mind how 
you begin, you’re sure to end up different than you 
expected.” 

The observation was not unwarranted; the twists and 
the turns were quite bewildering, and in their ramifications 
131 


132 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


bore a slight analogy to the uncertainties of character 
usually attributed to the female sex. 

Here’s a passage, for instance,” he continued, lighting 
a lantern as he spoke, “ that, if it was only cleared away, 
might lead to the water, for it strikes off in exactly the 
oppos/V(? direction.” 

‘‘Let’s see if it does !” I exclaimed, and I began to 
poke with my stick at the' rubbish that had collected at 
the mouth of a sort of tunnel leading from the main one 
we were in. 

“ It ain’t no use,” said Mr. C., who immediately be- 
came listless and spiritless the moment hard work was 
suggested; “ 'spose you do scrape out all that ’ere rub- 
bish, what then? ’Spose it do lead to the water, what’s 
the good? You can walk thar’ without silin’ your pants 
on the face of the earth, can’t you? And ain’t that better 
than crawlin’ on your belly ?” 

“ Mr. Crummels,” I observed, “I am of an investigat- 
ing disposition; if that passage can be cleared away and 
we find it leads to the water, it will be worth five dollars 
to me.” 

“ Do say !” observed Mr. Crummels, opening his eyes 
in wide amazement. “ Five dollars ! Well, you just hold 
on till I call ole Abe.” 

Ole Abe, a hand on the place, soon presented himself 
with a shovel, and Mr. Crummels took a seat on a barrel 
which he brought from the cellar. 

“ I can always manage a difficult business better when 
I’m sittin’,” he observed, “ and this yere business, needs 
a heap of executive ability. I’ve allers noticed, too, that 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


133 


you get on quicker when one does the head work and 
’tother the hand work; it’s a proper division of labor, as 
they calls it.” The combined efforts of ole Abe and his 
master, thus divided, resulted in clearing out the passage 
for some twenty feet. Connecting with this we dis- 
covered an air shaft of about a foot in diameter striking 
upwards to the surface of the earth, and protected, where 
it reached the surface, with an iron grating such as is 
used at the opening of a drain or sewer. The metal was 
almost eaten through with rust, while the aperture was 
choked with leaves and clogged with dirt After these 
obstructions were removed, a fresh current of air pene- 
trated into the regions below, and a little sunlight filtered 
down through the grating. 

As Mrs. Crummels appeared on the scene shortly after, 
and loudly remonstrated with her spouse for his waste of 
time, I gave her husband the five dollars to be awarded 
as he saw fit, only engaging his services in the near future 
to complete the interrupted task. And yet let me say 
that no five dollars I ever expended have brought me the 
interest those eventually did. No hour the most advan- 
tageously employed by Mr. Crummels, either, was worth 
to his family one billionth part of what that hour even- 
tually proved, though he had done nothing more than 
lazily sit on a barrel overseeing the work. 

As the day was warm and there was yet more than an 
hour before luncheon, I walked down to the beach with 
the object of taking a swim. The fact that Edna had re- 
fused to permit of my visiting her still continued to puz- 
zle me, and particularly her manner, which had been more 


134 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


than ordinarily embarrassed when I had proposed doing so. 
The more I thought over it, too, the further was I from 
finding an explanation of her conduct. There was a boat 
some half a mile off from the shore, which I noticed when 
I was undressing, and it was apparently rowing for the spot 
where I was; I paid no attention to it, as the sight 
was not an unusual one, and dipped into the cool blue 
waves. 

All the time I was swimming about I was arguing 
with myself as to why Edna had refused to receive 
me to-day, and when I would find that the water 
offered no satisfactory explanation I would come out and 
roll on the hot beach in the sun, taking up huge hand- 
fuls of sand and letting it slowly trickle down my legs 
and body. So preoccupied was I between the intellec- 
tual occupation of making a sandman of myself and 
then dipping into the water that I quite forgot all about 
the boat, until, happening to glance up, I saw that the dis- 
tance between us had been reduced by half. Even yet, if 
I thought of it at all, I supposed its • proximity to the 
shore was merely a matter of accident, and that, while it 
might be heading in this direction, it would soon turn 
about and go on its business again; I therefore re-entered 
the water and soon forgot it for the second time. 

The beach was long and solitary, being owned for at 
least a mile of its length by Mr. Dalzelle, and, without 
suspicion of being observed, I was indulging in a species 
of sport suggested by the amusing gambols of the por- 
poises which infest these waters. It consisted in diving, 
throwing one’s back well out of the water, kicking ener- 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


135 


getically with one’s feet, and then coming up and blowing. 
In the act of one of these experiments, when my head 
again reached the surface and I opened my eyes, I per- 
ceived not alone that the boat was now less than two 
hundred yards away, but, what was worse, that the flutter 
of a red shawl indicated the presence of a lady. I was in 
an extremely delicate situation, for there was no longer 
any doubt but that the strangers intended to land. Could 
they have failed to notice me ? 

I began to splash the water about as a discreet manner 
of explaining that I was on the premises, but without 
effect, for they continued on quite heedless of my pres- 
ence. There were three people in her, as I could now 
distinguish — a man in the bow, another rowing, and a 
woman in the stern. They were getting so close that 
modesty recommended my submerging myself lower — 
which I did, till my eyes were on a level with the water- 
line. With the top of my head alone visible I watched 
them drawing nearer and nearer, and an unconquerable 
curiosity held me, as it gradually dawned upon me that 
they were not strangers. Yet I must be mistaken; no, I 
was not. There was no mistaking the elephantine pro- 
portions of the principal figure, and I recognized with a 
start Rebecca Seaton as the occupant of the stern, the 
youth with the soiled face and the ears like wings in the 
bow, and a heavily bearded man amidships rowing the 
precious pair. My astonishment at seeing them coming 
upon me as it were out of the mystery of the wide, wide 
waters, was so great that I rose to my feet, regardless of 
the expose I was making. 


T36 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

Without sign of recognition they passed by me, and 
the boat grated on the beach. Thereupon the youth with 
the wing-like ears disembarked, pulling the boat as far up 
as his strength would permit, then the oarsman came next 
and drew her a little higher, and finally Rebecca Seaton, 
moving her elephantine person from the stern to the 
bow, was politely assisted to terra firma by her two con- 
ductors. 

“ Theophilus,” I distinctly heard her say to the youth 
with the wide extending ears, “ if you aint forgot the al- 
cohol bottle, you can gimme your harm.” Whereupon 
the youth with the big ears politely presented his elbow, 
and the ill-assorted pair proceeded in the direction of Mr. 
Dalzelle’s. As soon as they were sufficiently distant I 
rushed out of the water to the oarsman (who had re- 
mained behind with the boat) and be|^an to question him 
eagerly, asking whence he had brought them, how long 
they were to remain, and whither he was to convey them 
To all my queries, however, he merely shook his head. 
Finding at last that I was not so easily to be gotten rid of, 
he squatted down and wrote with his finger in the sand 
where the tide had left it hard: 

“ Deef and dum. Strike on the railroad, had to row. 
Yours truly, Henry Dobbs.” 

Though I wrote copious questions in the same vehicle 
o'f communication, he refused any further particulars, and 
would only shrug his shoulders and shake his head. 

I dressed myself hastily. The fact of their having 
steered to this part of the beach instead of to the 
point opposite to Mr. Dalzelle’s, whither they seemed 


THE ROMANCE OP AN ALTER EGO. 


137 


bound, argued a thorough familiarity with the shore here- 
about, for a sunken ledge of rocks extending a long dis- 
tance into the Sound rendered a more direct approach ex- 
tremely dangerous. Nor could there be a doubt but that 
Rebecca’s destination was Mr. Dalzelle’s, for even now, 
as I looked down the beach after her, she and her com- 
panion were passing into the summer-house through which 
the path lay to his residence. But Mr. Dalzelle was in 
the city. Ah, I have it ! They were going to visit Edna, 
and it was because of this that she had refused to allow 
me to come. 


XXVII. 


I don’t know that my feelings ever experienced a 
greater shock than when I arrived at the above conclu- 
sion. The connection between Edna and this terrible 
woman was so grotesque, so unnatural ! What could their 
relations be ? Merely that of patient and physician ? 
And yet I was in honor bound not to investigate the 
matter by following up the visitors. I could do nothing 
but wait and question Edna after they had gone. 

To the many traits of Edna that had struck me 
as extraordinary I thought I had now gained a clue, 
even to the agitation she invariably evinced when I ap- 
proached the subject of her procuring a divorce. Yet 
this made my position more than illogical, and even ren- 
dered my courtship questionable on the score of morality. 
Heretofore I had allowed matters to glide along without 
asserting my rights, for her society had grown so neces- 
sary to me that I had hesitated doing anything that 
might disturb my enjoyment of it. 

Now albeit I must take a decided stand, if only to break 
the influence which this woman too obviously exercised 
over her. 

I wandered back to my quarters and took up a position 
138 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


139 


on the piazza which commanded the beach, and from which 
I could seethe departure of the unwelcome visitors. 

And as I sat there, the perils from which I had escaped 
recurred to my mind. Could Rebecca Seaton have had 
anything to do with them ? I had little doubt but that the 
Coney Island assassination had been intended for me; and 
the cold-blooded nature of the crime showed me what I 
had escaped from at my hotel in the city. In some mys- 
terious manner my fate seemed connected with the dis- 
turbed condition of the country, too, and Edna, on whom 
I had pinned my faith, appeared drifting away from me. 
But what course had I best adopt ? 

A multiplicity of perplexities, instead of sharpening the 
wits, generally paralyzes them; and while I*ought to have 
been planning some definite line of action, there I sat 
on the piazza listening to the murmur of the breeze, 
looking at the “lady tongues” as they trembled on 
their delicate stems, and anon at the poultry that were 
picking about for crumbs at my feet. Among them was 
a bantam that from his extraordinary manner of walking 
had always caused me extreme wonder. During some 
especially cold night I believe his poor toes had been 
frost-bitten, but at any rate he raised his feet like a 
stepper in the shafts of a smart cabriolet. In his pride- 
ful progress, as he walked before me now, I read a 
fanciful moral on ambition that o’erleaps itself, that 
scarcely deigns to touch the earth from which it springs, 
that is all fuss and feathers at best, and that crows lustily 
in the morning only to have its neck wrung before night. 

Are not human hope and ambition analogous ? What 


140 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


difference did it all make, anyhow, what became of even 
Edna or myself? In fifty years, nay, in half, the sum 
total of human happiness is compressed. 

I rose from my seat and looked seawards. There 
was no sign of the boat, consequently she must still 
be under cover of the shore. I walked down near the 
beach and looked through the trees ; then I detected 
the heavily-bearded man asleep in the bottom of the 
boat. 

Those two hours before the absentees returned from 
Mr. Dalzelle’s seemed very long, but at last I saw them 
come walking back along the sands. They took the boat; 
I watched them departing over the waters, and when they 
had finally disappeared I went directly to see Edna. 
I would tell her what I thought of her conduct, and I 
would endeavor to persuade her to break off her connec- 
tion with this woman at once. I found her on the piazza 
of her home, and I immediately broached the subject, 
perhaps a little rudely, and for once there was no shrinking 
from me. 

The pupils of her great dark eyes dilated, and she 
looked at me with an expression I had never seen there 
before. Her exact reply was this : 

“ I will have you understand that I will receive what 
guests I choose, and I consider your action as an intoler- 
able interference.” 

“If it is an interference,” I said, “my excuse is the 
affection I bear you. It is terrible for me to think of the 
influence this woman seems to exercise over you.” 

“ I will thank you to reserve your philippics till they 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 141 

are called for. What right have you to speak ? You are 
nothing to me, nothing at all, and I hate you !” 

“ You hate me ?” I said, and I looked into her eyes. 

“ Yes, I hate you when you don’t mind your own busi- 
ness — ” her eyes were fairly flashing with anger — it is so 
indelicate of you, so rude,” she continued. 

“Come, let’s go for a drive,” I said, “and talk the 
whole thing over.” 

“ I have nothing to talk over; besides, I told you yes- 
terday I would not see you at all to-day.” 

“Then will you go with me to-morrow?” I asked. 
“ You promised that all to-morrow should be mine.” 

No, I will never give you the right to see me again.” 

Instead of replying I turned away from her and pressed 
my hands to my head. Her manner pained me exces- 
sively, and though I suppose my act showed the strength 
of my feelings better than any words could have done, 
she never relented. 

“ Very well,” I observed at last, “ I will leave you, and 
I will accept the interpretation you have put on my con- 
duct. I have been guilty of an intolerable interference.” 


XXVIII. 


The bolt had fallen out of a clear sky, so abruptly, so 
unexpectedly that I did not think of resisting it; on the 
contrary, I had almost drawn it down on my own head. 

I returned to the farm-house, and, writing Mr. Dalzelle 
briefly to the effect that his daughter would explain my 
departure, I thanked him for all his kindness and had 
myself driven over to the station. “A woman is very 
much like that cellar of mine,” observed Mr. Crummels 
sadly, as he bade me good-by on the platform of the car: 
“ she’s deep and she’s dark, and never mind where you 
begin with her, you’re sure to wind up different from what 
you expected.” 

I could not gainsay the aphorism. 

How I got through those first few days of my return to 
the city I hardly know. I felt quite broken up, utterly 
regardless of the future ; and the worst of it was, when I 
came to think over it, the more I realized that I myself 
had been alone to blame for the rupture. Certainly I had 
shown a miserable lack of diplomacy and had acted with 
such precipitancy as to allow plenty of time for repentance. 
Here I was, however, and, being here, what should I do ? 
Should I go back West, should I go to Europe, or should 
I stay where I was ? God help me ! My only object in 
coming East had been to get a little amusement out of 
142 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


143 


my wealth, and what a time I had had ! Apart from the 
blow to my affections, the extraordinary snarl 1 had got 
myself into was of itself sufficient cause of perplexity. 
Was I married or was I single ? I kept asking myself ; 
was I the true guardian of Edna, or was I not ? Would 
my separation be final, and would the attempts upon my 
life that had ceased during my residence in the country be 
now renewed in New York when I was parted from her? 
Then that horrible woman, Rebecca Seaton, would loom 
up before me, appearing at every turn of my dilemma 
in her redness, her hideous vulgarity, and recalling her 
malevolent influence over the object of my affections. 
What had been her motive in coming down to the 
country? Was it only to interrupt my happiness? 

The third day I left my apartment for the first time 
since my arrival, with the sole purpose of quieting my 
nerves by physical exercise. I remembered the walk I took 
on leaving the court-house after the trial, really so short a 
time ago, and yet which now seemed removed by ages. As 
I walked on, however, and my blood began to circulate, 
my mind gradually regained its usual equipoise, and to 
prevent my thoughts from reverting to my own troubles I 
set to work to find an explanation of a circumstance that 
iiad often puzzled me before — namely, why a city that 
professes to be the most progressive in the world should 
be constructed, as it were, against the grain of travel. All 
the course of travel ii north and south, and yet there are 
some twelve cross streets running east and west to one 
going up and down. 

By dint of much reflection I hit upon the following so- 


144 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


lution — namely, that when the upper portions of the city 
were laid out, the rivers, it was supposed, would be the 
principal means of transportation; hence the majority of 
the streets were cut to reach the water. One would think 
that diagonal streets would have been cut to facilitate 
your progress to points on either side, but the grim and 
useless tyranny of right angles faces you wherever you 
go. Now, because there are twelve streets athwart the 
line of travel to one in the proper direction, it happens 
that these cross streets are comparatively deserted. Ex- 
cept in the more important ones, people are few and far 
between ; and as for policemen, well, they are as scarce, 
when you want them, as foxes in a Connecticut township 
with a bounty of five dollars apiece on their heads. 

Besides, there is about these same cross streets a gloom 
of color and a monotony that an August sun, however 
glaring, can never light up and make cheerful. I was 
thinking on these several circumstances, the grim ugliness 
of the houses, the scarcity of people, and the intense heat, 
when my shoestring became unlaced and I stooped to 
retie it. In doing so I turned slightly around, and on 
raising my head I became aware of two men who had 
been walking behind me. Save from the general scarcity 
of people, there was nothing remarkable in the fact, but 
their turning in the opposite direction when I looked 
up induced me to turn also and to follow them. They 
had been too far off for me to distinguish their features 
before they faced about, but the additional fact of 
their now quickening their steps excited my suspicions 
and caused me to hasten mine. Nevertheless I failed 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


145 


to gain upon them. It was extremely awkward. I was 
hardly warranted in accelerating my pace to a run, and 
yet without running I could not get near enough to 
see whether my suspicions were justified. We were on 
Thirty-ninth street, approaching Park avenue, and when 
they reached the corner and turned down that avenue I 
took advantage of their being out of sight and did run 
after them. Strange to say, they must have availed them- 
selves of the like opportunity, for when I gained Park 
avenue they were at Thirty-eighth street, and the distance 
between us was but little decreased. Now, at the junc- 
tion of Park avenue and Thirty-eighth street, as every 
New-Yorker is aware, a stairway leads down into the 
tunnel of the Fourth avenue horse-car line, which runs 
to Thirty-fourth street under ground. Down this stair- 
case the two men rapidly disappeared, and when I de- 
scended and reached the tunnel myself, two cars going 
in opposite directions left me in doubt as to which they 
had taken. While I was hesitating both cars had gone 
some distance down the track, and when I hailed them 
they both redoubled their speed, as is the custom of 
horse cars when you wish to board them. I suppose the 
best course would have been to have selected one car and 
pursued it, on the chance of one or both of the stran- 
gers being on it ; but the close, stuffy odor of Ammonia 
Hollow increased my repugnance to the exertion so 
I remounted to the street and continued my aimless 
walk. 

Now, whether Rebecca Seaton’s magnetic qualities drew 
me like a loadstone towards her, or whether out of pure 


146 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


accident I passed her house, I leave to the psychologist 
to determine. Her residence lay, at all events, quite 
near, but I scarcely recognized that I had taken the street 
on which it was situated until I found myself opposite 
her door, and, what was worse, myself the object of 
the surreptitious gaze of Theophilus from the window. 
Under the circumstances I could scarcely pass the hospit- 
able mansion; and though I was totally unprepared with 
any excuse for a visit, I mounted the steps and in du^ 
course of time was informed by the large-eared ab 
tendant that his mistress was not at home. A sus- 
picious whispering that had preceded the opening of the 
portal, however, induced me to ask Theophilus to let 
me enter the sanctuary of the oracle, on the pretext of 
writing a few words to her on my card. What was 
to be the purport of this message was as much of an 
enigma as what I would have said to her had she been 
visible ; but an uncontrollable temptation seized me to 
discover whether she was really absent from her office 
or had simply made a pretext not to receive me. The- 
ophilus, nevertheless, conducted me into her parlors, and, 
as they were tenantless, left me in the awkward predica- 
ment of confessing that on second thoughts I would call 
again and deliver in person my message. To be sure, I 
made a pretense of writing something on my card, only to 
tear it up in pieces afterwards, and then, in order to de- 
rive some benefit from my coming, I endeavored to draw 
out Theophilus on the subject of his own recent visit and 
that of his mistress to Rocky Point. To all of my ques- 
tions, however, he was as uncommunicative as an oyster. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


147 


and I left the house recognizing that I was badly worsted. 
Now, it was not till I had returned to my hotel, and had 
been home in fact some hour or so, that I discovered 
that my card case was missing. It had no particular in- 
trinsic value, but having been given me by Edna I prized 
it highly. Thinking I might have left it on the table in 
Rebecca’s office, where I remembered laying it down for 
a moment, I decided to go back on the chance of its re- 
- covery. What is more disagreeable than such a second 
visit? But 1 started out forthwith. The house was on 
Thirty-seventh street, and but a few doors from the corner 
of the avenue by which I approached it. Consequently 
it was concealed from my view until I had passed the 
corner of Thirty-seventh street. Arrived here, I stood 
for a moment in utter amazement. Two men were com- 
ing out, and, this time, being nearer and their full faces 
turned towards me, I recognized them not only as the 
couple who had followed me earlier in the day, but as 
the same two men who had crossed my path at an earlier 
period of my history. What should I do ? Get a police- 
man and have them arrested ? Easier said than done. 
Policemen, when you want them, are harder to catch, as 
I have intimated, than Connecticut foxes. 

I looked up and down the long, dusty avenue; there 
was not a single bluecoat in sight. I was ignorant 
whether the pair had seen me or not, for they were slowly 
walking away in the opposite direction, down towards 
Third avenue. If I went in quest of a policeman they 
would certainly escape me. There was nothing to do 
but to follow them a second time. I felt for my pistol 


148 the romance of an alter ego. 

and carefully examined it. With it I argued, there 
could scarcely be much danger, particularly as it was yet 
barely four o’clock. Hastening my steps, therefore, I 
soon made up the distance I had lost by my hesitation. 
I was rapidly lessening what remained, for, evidently yet 
unsuspicious, they continued to walk leisurely on. My 
heart beat so loudly that I half feared they would hear 
its palpitations, but I decided that they should not escape 
me again . on that I was resolved. Once more I looked 
at my pistol, slipped it back into the pocket of my sack- 
coat, and keeping my hand upon the handle, ran along 
on tiptoe till I was directly behind them. Then stepping 
up suddenly between them, “Now,” I ejaculated, “ who 
are you, and tell me what you want ?” 

They stopped, and I must say their self-control aston- 
ished me. Could they have been conscious all along of 
my presence, and had they drawn me into a trap ? Not a 
muscle of the face of either changed. They surveyed 
me quite calmly, then looked stealthily around, and the 
next instant two knives flashed out. So quick was the 
action that I barely had time to spring back, and, draw- 
ing my revolver, pulled the trigger. Curse it ! it missed 
fire. At sight of my weapon they started to run, and I 
after them, down towards Third avenue. Again and 
again I cocked it, took aim and pulled, but the mechan- 
ism failed to work. Several times they turned their heads 
and seemed half inclined to resume the attack, but either 
they were ignorant that I was trying to shoot or my deter- 
mined appearance warned them not to take any chances. 
At Third avenue there were plenty of people, and as we 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 1 49 

approached it I loudly called upon the crowd to stop 
them, but my only satisfaction was a general and a 
hurried stampede. One of the fugitives, too, was fast 
outstripping the other, and this one I lost sight of after 
he passed the corner. The other, being less fleet-footed, 
I was gaining on, and on him I fixed my hopes. Down 
Third avenue he went, and I could now see that he was 
racing to catch a train on the elevated road that would 
reach its station (Thirty-fourth street) in about three- 
quarters of a minute. I redoubled my efforts, shouting 
as I did so. Bu^ the people, instead of trying to assist 
me, opened like human portals before him as he went. 
Still I was rapidly gaining on him, and when we got to 
the steps leading up to the depot I could almost put my 
hand on his back. One more bound and my hand did 
actually rest on him, but he veritably seemed greased. 
Already the train had arrived and was beginning to dis- 
gorge its passengers ; down they came flocking, while a 
great coarse woman with a basket on her arm fairly 
blocked up the narrow passageway. Through these people 
the fugitive slipped like an eel, and, ducking under the 
arm of the heavy woman, left a slice of his coat tail in 
my hands for my pains. I saw him reach out and pay 
for his ticket as he gained the landing, and, forgetting 
that the same formality would be required of me, I was 
delayed for a moment at the turnstile. Pushing by, 
however, I was in time to see my quarry spring on the 
rear platform of a car just as it started off. When I 
tried to follow him the guard shut the gate in my face. 

I fairly cried with vexation as I ran along after the train, 


150 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

expostulating with the guard and trying to make him let 
me board it. Both he and the fugitive laughed in my 
face, then finally, as the train rolled away, the latter 
leaned far out, and, with a vindictive leer which I shall 
remember to my dying day, ‘‘We’ll meet again,” he 
hissed, “ before very long, and don’t you forget it.” 


XXIX. 


“Can I be of any assistance to you, sir?” It was a 
great tall man that addressed me, with a bright, wide-awake 
look. He had evidently arrived at the station only a 
moment after me. 

“Remember that person,” I answered, pointing at the 
retreating train, “and be ready to identify him if I call 
upon you.” 

“ I will certainly remember him, and will be at any 
time at your orders. I have had some little experience in 
these matters, as possibly you may recognize by this.’’ 
Thereupon he handed me his card, and I read with sur- 
prise the name of a young criminal lawyer who had lately 
jumped into sudden fame through his masterly defense 
of a noted defaulter. “I see you are excited,” he con- 
tinued ; “ you had better take the next train down and 
tell me the particulars on the way. If necessary we can 
get off and lodge a complaint at headquarters.” 

Another train came rumbling into the station as he 
spoke, and without more ado I followed my new-made 
friend in and took a seat beside him. There was some- 
thing about him that invited confidence, apart from what 
his great reputation would inspire, so I explained the 
nature of the case as well as the opportunity would allow. 
On arriving at the station nearest to Mulberry street we 
151 


152 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


got out and proceeded to police headquarters. Accom- 
panied by so distinguished a gentleman, I was at once 
admitted to the sanctuary of the chief, and lodged my 
complaint in due form, leaving a more accurate descrip- 
tion of my assailants than I had heretofore been able to 
give. 

Owing to the briefness of our acquaintance, I had not 
as yet given my name to my legal companion, and he 
now heard it for the first time. The effect on him was 
electrical. 

“ Do you mean to tell me that you are the very Mr. 
Aaron Simoni whose trial made such a sensation a little 
while ago V* 

I expressed my regret that such was the fact. 

“Well, sir,” he exclaimed, “I know your case almost 
by heart. I read up all the evidence and have it at my 
finger tips. You were wretchedly advised. Though it 
is scarcely professional for me to say so, that Slocum is 
an ass. No lawyer with a spoonful of brains would have 
let you get into such a fix. From the very first,” he 
continued, “I was convinced that it was merely a case of 
mistaken identity. These mistakes are really very fre- 
quent,” he went on. “ At this very moment there are as 
many as three figuring in the papers. There is the Cart- 
right case for instance; the Tascott case again; and 
some eighteen months ago I remember that a man was 
actually tried in Brooklyn under very similar conditions 
to yours. Have you ever thought that these attempts 
upon your life, of which you gave me a brief account 
coming down in the train, might owe their origin to 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 1 53 

something which* this double of yours might have done? 
It might explain his hasty disappearance, too, for he 
might have been in fear of his personal safety, and con- 
sequently have left suddenly ; or again he might even 
have been made away with. Following out this sugges- 
tion, when you came on the scene they might have taken 
you for him and have tried to square up some old grudge. 
In other words, I mean that these attacks, possibly being 
directed at Fitzamble, would naturally seem inexplicable to 
you, because you are not familiar with the circumstances 
of his life." 

I never thought of that," I said, seeing the reason- 
ableness of the inference. 

“ Well, such an explanation is possible, at all events," 
he continued, “ and if you care to call upon me in a 
week’s time I may be better prepared to advise you what 
to do, should your assailants not be run down in the 
meanwhile." 

I promised to call upon him, and, expressing my 
sincere thanks for his interest in my affairs, I returned to 
my hotel. 

I was in such an irritable condition that only strong 
stimulants or excitement could steady me. Not being 
addicted to the first, I picked up the evening paper and 
looked over the list of amusements. I ran my eye down 
through the wearisome list of concerts, museums and 
theatres with their hackneyed plays, until I reached a 
notice at which I stopped abruptly. 

It was as follows: 

“ This evening, after a sparkling prelude consisting of 


154 the romance of an alter ego, 

songs by celebrated artists, the world-re*nowned clairvoy- 
ant, Rebecca Seaton, will give the first of a series of 
mesmeric performances at Bowery Hall, at half-past seven 
o’clock. Don’t fail to attend.” 

No, I would certainly not fail to attend. Rebecca Sea- 
ton and her doings had become of special interest to me. 

I was a little late in finishing my dinner and the drive 
was long. The curtain had fallen on the “ sparkling 
prelude ” when I entered the hall. I was hardly prepared 
to find the audience seated at little tables drinking beer 
and spirits, as at a variety show. I was just taking a 
chair at one of these tables, and was about to give an 
order to a somewhat forward young waitress, when the 
curtain went up, displaying the ordinary stage of a con- 
cert hall, and Rebecca Seaton enthroned thereon in a 
flaming red gown, sparkling with glass diamonds. After 
a brief address on the possibilities of mesmerism, she 
bade any one who felt inclined to mount the platform. 
This invitation some dozen or so young people, of dif- 
ferent sexes, after a proper degree of hesitation, accepted, 
and, weeding out a few from these, she seated the re- 
mainder in a long line like negro minstrels. Then be- 
ginning to move up and down in front of them, she waved 
her hands before their faces until they were severally re- 
duced to a proper degree of responsiveness. 

The ordinary mesmeric exhibition is probably too fa- 
miliar to my readers to warrant my dwelling on this por- 
tion of the entertainment. Suffice it to say Rebecca put 
her “class” through a variety of roles and characters 
as widely diversified as school children and Choctaw 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


155 


Indians, Lady Macbeths and Daniel Websters. At one 
time they would be squealing pigs at another members 
of the United States Senate, while at a third moment 
they would be dancing like idiots till a word and a snap 
of her finger would reduce them to solemn decorum. 
My suspicion was that the majority were confederates, 
or at least readily lent themselves to the deception. Yet 
there were several who I had little doubt were entirely 
unconscious of their actions. 

This closed the first half of the mesmeric performance, 
and, though I had derived little pleasure from the exhibi- 
tion, something, I can hardly define what, induced me to 
await the finale, which I did on the outside of the build- 
ing, smoking a cigarette. The curtain had gone up when 
I re-entered the hall, and the oracle was saying something 
about having reserved the choicest and most startling 
evidences of her power to the last, hinting at a mysterious 
personage of unexampled beauty and purity who would 
emerge at her bidding from behind a green baize screen 
in the rear of the stage. “ Yes,” continued Rebecca, 
“ she’s a marvel; there’s nothing I can’t make this yere 
young sensitive do. I could tell her she was Joan of 
Arc, and she’d let herself be burnt at the stake. Again, 
I could turn her into James Wilkes Booth, and she’d 
start off for Washington for to murder the President. 
She’s a born millionaire, too, and does it for the genu- 
ine love of science. None of your cheap trash, but a 
tip- topper from Topsville. What character now will you 
have her take ? Suppose, to begin with, I make her one of 
these yere waitresses that is serving you with drinks. For 


156 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

a tip-topper as lives in a marble palace and has troops of 
servants to wait on her, this yere duty might seem the 
most remarkable; howsomever, she'll wait on you as well 
as any of them professionals, and throw in a kiss like the 
rest, mayhap, to titillate the boys.” 

I had been seated in the back of the house during the 
address, and a vague and undefined uneasiness stole over 
me. I saw Rebecca approaching the screen. I saw her 
draw it aside, and then addressing some one, whom her 
broad back concealed, I saw her make her infernal passes 
over the hidden figure. The next moment my worst 
fears were realized. Edna Dalzelle was in truth advanc- 
ing towards the audience — Edna in all her purity and 
her beauty, but metamorphosed into the coquettish smart- 
ness of a waitress in a Bowery variety show. 

I waited until she had descended from the platform. I 
waited until she had started to come down the aisle. Then, 
when she got opposite me, I rose, and, seizing her about 
the waist, I tried to drag her out of the hall. In a mo- 
ment the room was in an uproar. “Officer!” shouted 
Rebecca Seaton to a policeman whom I had failed to no- 
tice, but who had been standing by to maintain order, 
“put that man out; he’s drunk!” 

“ Put him out ! put him out!” was caught up on every 
side, and a thousand hands, as it seemed, reached at my 
throat and tore me from the woman I loved. Before I 
could explain I found myself on the outside of the build- 
ing in the glow of the garish lights and the cheap bril- 
lancy of the thoroughfare, with the thoughtless crowds 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


157 


passing in troops before me, and very likely wondering 
what the matter was all about. 

“Come! Move on there — move on,” cried the police- 
man; and as he refused to let me re-enter, even though I 
tried to bribe him, I left her surrounded by the laughing 
audience and waiting upon their wishes. 

Not a word had she addressed me; not a sign of recog- 
nition had she bestowed upon me, only the coquettish 
smirk of a brazen girl. It was awful, grotesque, out- 
rageous! and yet I loved her at that moment more than I 
had ever done before — loved her for her real self, and 
longed to protect from insult that other self which was 
being destroyed; loved her for the risk of contamina- 
tion that her unreasoning self was bringing upon her 
other self. 

I sprang into a carriage and had myself driven to the 
lawyer’s in whose hands I had placed myself this very 
afternoon. As I reached his house he was just mounting 
the stoop on his return from his club. My agitation 
really alarmed him, and it was some time before I could 
give him an intelligible account of the occurrence. 

“ What can I do ?” I demanded. ^‘Will the law give 
me the power to have this woman arrested ?” 

“ If any crime could be proved, of course it would. 
But I am really at a loss to advise you. In one sense 
you might claim that the action of the courts had made 
you Edna’s husband with authority over her to oblige 
her to return to you; but inasmuch as you have appealed 
from that verdict, I don’t see how you could logically 
adopt even that course. If you bring Rebecca into the 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


iS8 

courts, too, she will prove that this girl acts of her own 
free will ; and as Edna is of age, even her father could 
hardly interfere.” 

“ But she is not acting of her own free will. This wo- 
man paralyzes, destroys her will.” 

“And yet when you condemned Edna’s acquaintance 
with Rebecca the other day, she let you leave her.” 

I could do nothing but wring my hands. 

“ Suppose we go to her father,” he said. An ener- 
getic protest from him might serve better than from 
you.” 

We drove immediately to his residence, only to learn, to 
my consternation, that he was not in town. 

“ Then to the hall again!” I cried. “ I must learn if 
she is still there.” 

On our arrival at this last point my companion obliged 
me to wait in the carriage till he first descended and 
surveyed the premises. In a few minutes he returned 
and assured me that the performance was all over and 
the parties to it had gone. 

Thereupon I formally retained Mr. Star in my service 
and went home. 

That night, I think, was the most terrible one I had 
ever spent in my life. But it crystallized a resolution that 
I would stay in the city and devote myself to saving this 
woman from her fate. 


XXX. 


Early next morning found me at Mr. Dalzelle’s place of 
business, where I waited at least an hour before he came 
in from the country. On his arrival I briefly related the 
particulars that had so shocked me on the previous even- 
ing. 

<MVell, it’s very odd,” he said. '‘Here’s a letter that 
was handed me by the elevator boy as I was just coming 
up. Read it for yourself.” And he handed me a deli- 
cately scented envelope: 

“ My dear father,” it ran, “ if Mr. Simoni comes to 
you this morning with any ridiculous story, place no 
credit in his statements. Not satisfied with treating me 
in a most inexcusable manner, he has carried his inter- 
ference so far as to make a scene last night at some 
charades gotten up for charity. At all events, if I choose 
to act I have the right to do so, as I am over age; and 
if I find my health benefited by the course of treatment I’ 
am pursuing under the advice of Mrs. Seaton, you really 
have no cause to object. 

“Your affectionate daughter, 

“ Edna.” 

I was amazed. 

“ But she never wrote that letter herself !” I cried. 

“ It is in her own handwriting.” 

“ Then she wrote it under thie spell this hideous wo- 
159 


l60 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

man has thrown over her. She feared I would come to 
you, and she made her write it to counteract anything I 
might say. Mr. Dalzelle,” I continued, “I can prove 
that these charades, as she calls them, were conducted in 
a public hall, and, so far from their purpose being charity, 
it was the pecuniary benefit of Rebecca Seaton. You 
ought to exercise your influence and bring your daughter 
home at once.” 

“It’s very easy for you to say what I ought to do,” 
he replied, with senile petulancy, “but I’ve repeatedly 
told you I have no influence over my daughter at all. 
Even if I applied to the courts I don’t know as it would 
do any good ; as she says, she is over age, and I suppose 
they would hold that she has the right to consult any phy. 
sician she wants.” 

“ But this public performance ?” 

“ My dear sir, I have noticed that you are of an ima- 
ginative disposition, given slightly to exaggeration.” 

“Well, look at this paper. Here the performance is 
advertised.” 

“ I don’t wish to look at any papers. My daughter has 
adopted a certain line of conduct without consulting me, 
and since your departure she has moreover persisted in 
taking up her residence at this woman’s house on the plea 
of being nearer her, and thus better obtaining the benefit 
of her advice. I can do nothing with her, and as I un- 
derstand that you have resigned any pretensions you 
might have had , I don’t see how you can do anything 
either.” 

His weakness exasperated me. In my heart of hearts 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. l6l 

I believe he feared Rebecca Seaton himself and dreaded 
to exercise the little power he had. 

‘‘Very well, sir,” I replied; “your daughter is a slave 
to a bold and designing woman, and your refusal to inter- 
fere is both unnatural and unfatherly. I have said all I 
can, however, and before long you will repent of your lack 
of decision.” 

I had barely returned to my hotel when a few lines 
came from Mr. Star, giving what he deemed an explana- 
tion of Edna’s extraordinary debut the night before. It 
was this: He had learned that Rebecca had gone to con- 
siderable expense in preparing for the exhibition, which 
had been delayed several days by the indisposition of her 
principal performer. It was in all likelihood only when it 
was apparent that these disbursements would be wasted 
and the performance given up that she thought of 
Edna as a substitute. Considering the place and the 
nature of the audience, she had evidently been willing to 
run the risk of Edna’s escaping recognition, and had 
probably gone down to the country to secure the girl’s 
services. 

Whether Mr. Star was correct or not in his inferences 
I had no means of determining. There was one course 
remaining to me, however, and this I forthwith resolved to 
adopt. I would closely watch Edna, and guard her from 
harm as far as I could myself do so. The trend of my 
thoughts brought me back to the attempts on my own 
life, and again I began to wonder whether there could be 
any connection between these and Rebecca Seaton. The 
appearance at her house of the two men whom I had 


1 62 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

chased would seem to give color to the suspicion. I 
knew it was because of her that Edna had thrown me 
over, but would she carry her opposition to me so far as 
to have me assassinated ? 

I secured quarters in a lodging house sufficiently near 
Rebecca’s residence to command a view of it from the 
window, and in order to be away from my watch as little 
as possible, I had my meals served in my room. Fortu- 
nately for my peace of mind, I learned through Mr. Star 
that Edna did not appear the second evening at the hall, 
nor during any day of the following week. Indeed, as I 
never saw her leave the house, I had every reason to sup- 
pose she was still domiciled therein. 


XXXI. 


During this period I got hold of all the books on mes- 
merism I could find. I devoured the contributions of 
Braid, of Charcot, of Obersteiner, of Beard, Hammond, 
and Carpenter, and marveled at the audacious sugges- 
tions of Campili, Gilert, La Tourette, and Deleuze. I 
learned how the Indian fakirs practiced it in India, and 
how by reducing the subject through it to a cataleptic 
condition could be explained their principal wonder trick 
of burying men under ground for several days and then 
bringing them back to life again — a phenomenon that 
had so often puzzled the English conquerors. These 
and many more wonders I read about, but after my ex 
perience with Edna I was forced to agree with that great 
physician Charcot, who presides over the Salpetriere 
hospital for the insane in Paris, that the practice of so 
dangerous a power ought to be as carefully guarded and 
restricted as the use of poisons. 

Of all that I read on the subject, however, the most sug- 
gestive treatise was a short article in the North A77ierican 
Review^ by Mr. W. A. Croffut, a gentleman occupying a 
high position in the service of his country in Washington. 
It was entitled “ The Open Door of Dreamland,” and be- 
cause the extraordinary array of facts which it presented 
so largely influenced my action, I give a few brief extracts: 

163 


164 the romance of an alter ego. 

“ For thirty years I visited every traveling mesmerist 
that came along, and marveled at his experiments. 
After observing them under scientific conditions, and 
carefully eliminating Beard’s ‘ nine sources of error,’ 

I became quite certain of their genuineness, and a year 
or two ago began to practice upon such sensitive people 
as I could induce to submit to manipulations. 

I did as I had seen mesmerizers do : sequestered the 
person as completely as possible from conversation, 
laughter, and the company of others; asked him to sit at 
perfect ease, and to close his eyes,and keep them closed 
for some minutes. I touched his forehead with gentle 
pressure, then told him firmly that he could not open his 
eyes, necessarily accompanying that assurance with a 
strong desire that he should keep them closed. 

“ The first success surprised me greatly, because it did 
not appear that the small cause was at all adequate to 
the tremendous result. There was before me a sturdy 
man apparently helpless, apparently subject in all things 
to my direction and caprice, apparently unconscious of 
his surroundings, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, know- 
ing nothing, not even his powerlessness in the presence of 
a dominant mood and purpose. There was no collusion; 
for I had never seen the man or he me till five minutes 
before. I did not know his nativity or his name, or 
where he lived, or anything about him. I had not even 
been aware of ‘ bringing my will to bear on him ’ in any 
sense other than that in which we employ it to second 
and enforce any desire. Yet there he sat, apparently de- 
prived of all ability to lift his hand without my per- 
mission; and I experimented with him till I proved that 
the appearance was a reality, and that he was absolutely 
subject to my suggestion. 

“Let me say that this influence over him was cumu 
lative and progressive. At first he was only passively re- 
sponsive. I could keep him still but could not make him 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 1 65 

move. I could close his eyes, fasten his clenched hands 
together, prohibit his rising, prevent his speaking, and 
control all his muscles, but for a time could not subject 
him to active hallucinations through his senses. 

“ It is sometimes a long step from the loss of power 
over the weak and fluttering eyelid and that ludicrous 
loss of perception in which a roll of paper becomes a 
dagger, a glove becomes alternately a bird and a snake, 
and a broom becomes a banjo. 

“ The various stages of mesmeric control seem to fol- 
low each other somewhat in this way : first, bewilderment 
and doubt; second, muscular obedience — and up to this 
point the responsive is wholly or partially conscious of 
his identity and surroundings; third, lethargy or tendency 
to sleep; fourth, surrender of the senses and loss of iden- 
tity; fifth, catalepsy; sixth, complete hallucination or wak- 
ing dream.” 

Again he goes on to say : 

“ Many believe that mesmerism has its source in 
spiritualism, and that the entranced person actually sees 
the forms and hears the voices of departed human beings. 
I have never had the least evidence tending to justify any 
such conclusion. There seems to be nothing in hypnotic 
hallucinations showing whether man is an angel or a 
clod, whether he is an indestructible soul waiting for 
release from his cage to soar like a bird to the stars and 
live forever, or merely the transitory crown of earth’s 
fauna, struggling with the hopeless problems of his des- 
tiny between ice-age and ice-age. 

“ Mesmerism is always the result of suggestion, and is 
never effected in any other way. If I face a responsive 
to the wall I can have no effect upon him unless I speak 
to him. If he is beyond my reach I cannot affect him 
at all without communicating with him. Dr. Gilert, in 


i66 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


France, has written a good deal and told many marvelous 
stories about ^ som?neil a distance,* but I have never been 
able to obtain any such results under the most favorable 
conditions. I have mesmerized a good many without 
touching them, by merely waving my hand or speaking 
to them, and I have several times put absent responsives 
into a sound sleep by writing or telegraphing to them 
that they would fall into a mesmeric sleep at a certain 
hour, and this has happened, sometimes to their incon- 
venience. But the sleep was the result of a conspiracy 
between expectation and acquiescence. If they had not 
known what I wished, I might have set in my library and 
wished till the next century without any response whatever. 

“ For the benefit of those who may desire to experi- 
ment, here are certain conclusions derived from my own 
observations : 

‘‘ About one person in ten can be easily mesmerized. 
There are no known rules by which to pick out this 
mesmerizable person in advance, as eligibility extends 
almost impartially to both sexes and all ages, to blondes 
and brunettes, and people of all temperaments, to rich 
and poor, to learned and unlettered, and, it may be add- 
ed, to obstinate and docile. 

“The proportion of people who have the ‘power’ 
to mesmerize, if it be a power, is still more problematical. 
But it seems to me what might be called a biological 
axiom that no human being possesses any quality 
different in kind from that possessed, in various degrees, 
by all other human beings. 

“ Mesmerism is a trance, artificially produced, and it 
appears almost identical with somnambulism, or active 
sleep. 

“ This artificial sleep, if unaccompanied by exciting 
episodes, is as harmless as natural sleep. My responsives 
occasionally come to me in the daytime to be put to 
sleep for the purpose of obtaining needed rest.” 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 167 

Going on, he says : 

“ Hallucinations that take place under mesmerism are 
seldom remembered in a subsequent waking state, but 
they are generally recalled vividly in a subsequent mes- 
meric state. 

“The exception to this is that exciting scenes into 
which responsives are thrown are often recalled after they 
are awakened. Imaginary shipwrecks and conflagrations 
are generally thus recalled; and a young lady who, while 
in a mesmeric trance, was taken where she could scrape 
up her handkerchief full of imaginary diamonds, sighed 
deeply on coming to herself, and exclaimed : ‘ Ah ! 

where are the splendid diamonds ?’ 

“It is conceivable that mesmerism might injure an 
invalid. If he have heart disease, for instance, an ex- 
citing or violent episode, a rapture of joy or a convulsion 
of great grief or fear, might prove injurious or even 
fatal, just as it might in his normal condition. 

“ This possibility is abundantly offset by the value of 
mesmerism as a therapeutic agent. The responsive can 
be made so intoxicated on water, which he has been told 
is whisky, as to exhibit all symptoms of extreme 
inebriety; can be made disgustingly seasick by being 
told that he is at sea in a storm; and can be at once 
physically affected by any imaginary medicine. His 
temperature can be changed, his eye dilated, and his 
pulse quickened. Mesmerism is as perfect an anaesthetic 
as ether, and as harmless as water. Any mesmerized 
person can at once, by a single stroke of the hand, be 
rendered totally insensible to pain, and can have a tooth 
drawn, a cataract removed, a cancer cut out, or an arm 
cut off without feeling the slightest pain. This has been 
so often demonstrated that amputations frequently take 
place under its influence in the Paris hospitals, and it is 
successfully employed in obstetrics.” 


i68 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


Again: 

‘‘It is quite eironeous to suppose that the conduct of 
the responsive is directed in detail by the operator. He 
only suggests the general line of thought, and each re- 
sponsive pursues it according to his own knowledge, ex- 
perience, or prejudices. I say to my responsives, for 
instance, that I have a wonderful educated cow with seven 
heads. They all want to see it. I call their attention to 
the imaginary stable door near by; they look towards it, 
and, when I snap my fingers, they all see a seven-headed 
cow enter. Now, by questioning them it becomes ob- 
vious that they all see a different cow. Unless I have 
designated her color, one sees a white cow, another a red 
cow, and so on. 

‘ ‘ Then I tell them that she can dance — can waltz and 
keep time with music. I hand one a cane, telling him it 
is a flute and that he is an eminent performer, and he 
goes through the motions of playing to the dancing cow. 
They all hear different tunes, but the exhibition is satis- 
factory.’’ 

Continuing, Mr. Croffut says : 

“ As a rule, responsives can be completely dominated 
and made to do anything of which they are physically 
capable. They could generally be induced to take poison, 
or jump off the house, or throw themselves under a loco- 
motive, or attack one another with deadly weapons. But 
there are some exceptions. I was unable to overcome 
the fear of one of my responsives, whom I sent to assault 
an imaginary Indian in the Park. He refused to go, and 
said it was ‘ difficult to kill an Indian.’ 

“ A young lady, one of the brightest sensitives I have 
ever seen, steadfastly refuses to play cards. I tell her she 
is Buffalo Bill and easily induce her to assume his char- 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 1 69 

acter, but when cards are suggested, ‘ No, I never play 
cards. It is wrong !’ she says, and I cannot move her. 
I could make her jump out through the window or put 
her hand in the fire, but play cards she will not. I was 
puzzled by it, till, inquiring, I ascertained that her reli- 
gious parents had brought her up very strictly, and 
taught her it was ‘ wicked to play cards.’ 

“And this brings us to the question, much mooted of 
late, whether crime can be committed by the aid of mes- 
merism. If so, it is brought into relations, not only with 
medicine, but with jurisprudence — not only with the 
pharmacopoeia but the penitentiary. It is obvious that, 
if cases of this kind occur, the one to whom punishment 
must be dealt out is the mesmerist. 

“ I have no doubt that crimes of a certain sort can be 
thus committed. It is obvious that sexual offenses could 
easily take place without the acquiescence or conscious 
concurrence of the responsive; and it is alleged that ag- 
gressions of this kind have attracted the attention of the 
authorities in France. Crimes against life and property 
by the agency of the responsives, being more complicat- 
ed, would be more difficult and proportionately less fre- 
quent. Deep interest has been challenged by the allega- 
tion that a young girl in Paris, whose lover had become 
tired of her, was mesmerized by him and sent twenty-five 
miles away on the cars, and there, influenced by his pre- 
viously communicated suggestion, induced to commit 
suicide with a pistol. If such a power exists it is indeed 
not only startling, but greatly alarming. The question is, 
Does it exist ? Did it exist and operate in this instance, 
or did the suicide result from some other prompting — for 
instance, the knowledge of the girl that her lover wished 
that she was dead ? 

“ One evening at a reception,” continues Mr. Croflut, 
“ a curious thing happened. I transported a young man 
and two ladies to Paris in imagination, and left them en- 


170 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


joying and commenting on the pictures in the Louvre 
while I turned aside to superintend a personation of the 
President by another. When I returned to the tourists 
they had absolutely forgotten me, and I could not in any 
way make my presence known to them. They did not see 
my face or hear my voice, but continued their absorbed 
enjoyment of the great art galleries. I was compelled to 
unmesmerize them and start again from the beginning. 

“ This same young man proved an expert penman. I 
filled out a check on the Lincoln Bank of New York City 
with the sum of $100,000, and then, producing a genuine 
signature of Cornelius Vanderbilt, I induced him to imi- 
tate it with great accuracy in a signature at the bottom of 
the check, my arrangement with him being that he should 
have one-half of it when collected. I suggested that I 
would collect it and then rejoin him; but he was too 
shrewd and suspicious for that, and insisted on accom- 
panying me to the imaginary bank, informing me, with 
more than the unction of Sairey Gamp, that he would 
‘ knock my head off’ if I did not ‘divvy square.' I do 
not see why a depredating mesmerist might not thus make 
use of an innocent accessory to complete a felony. 

“ At another reception I was more successful in the 
matter of burglary. I made private arrangements before- 
hand with a neighbor half a block off, who concealed a 
plethoric pocket-book in a bureau drawer up-stairs, then 
locked the bureau, the room, and the house, and brought 
me the three keys. When I had mesmerized my agent I 
told him he was the famous robber, Dick Turpin, and 
that I had a job for him. I called his attention to the 
fact that he was on the earth and must look out where he 
stepped. I told him where the house was, and described 
it minutely. I made a diagram of the interior, of the 
stairs, the room, and the bureau, gave him the keys, and 
introduced him to a ‘pal’ who would keep watch. He 
asked if there were any dogs. I reassured him on this 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 17I 

point, gave him an imaginary revolver, and started him 
off. I requested some gentlemen to follow him, to see 
that no harm befell him, among whom were General 
Greely, Senator Kenna, and W. E. Curtis, the well-known 
journalist. 

‘‘ He went to the house, skirmished slyly about it, and 
finally unlocked the door, groped his way up the front 
stairs, unlocked the room and the bureau, and got the 
wallet. Then he began to exceed his instructions by 
plundering the house. His accomplice argued the matter 
with him, and finally induced him to desist from his pur- 
pose and start to return. But when once on the street, 
he resolved to run away and enjoy the whole of the booty 
himself. ‘ What’s the use of going back to divide ?’ he 
petulantly asked. Only after another argument and 
some show of force was he got back to my house. He 
came in noiselessly, but with triumphant air, and de- 
manded three-quarters of the spoil, which I gave him on 
the spot — at least, to his satisfaction. He left the bureau 
open, but locked the doors on leaving. On being re- 
stored to himself he knew nothing of his adventure. 

“So it seems obvious to me that burglaries at a little 
distance can be committed under the most favorable cir- 
cumstances by the employment of an innocent agent, who 
is quite unconscious of any violation of law or equity. 
There are strict limitations to this power of vicarious 
crime, but the possibility that it may occur should be 
enough to excite the solicitude of neurologists on the one 
hand, and the attention of jurists on the other. 

“ ‘ How do you know these persons are not deceiving 
you ?' is a question often asked. They might deceive me 
for a few minutes or an hour, but not for months. In the 
first place, they are not persons who would indulge in such 
folly. In their normal condition they are quite incapable 
of the long and elaborate speeches and earnest dramatic 
performances which they give. They are thrown into 


172 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


cataleptic rigidity, whose genuineness is attested by phy- 
sicians. While insensitive they are subjected to great 
pain which they could not bear in their normal state. 
They can be made to laugh immoderately or weep at 
will. 

“ I have seen a young man, while making a speech, de- 
liberately and deeply seared down the hand with a white- 
hot iron, quite unexpectedly to himself, and he showed 
no sign of being conscious of it. I have seen a mesmer- 
ized man, driven to despair by the suggestions of the 
operator (Dr. George M. Beard), seize a revolver, which 
he could not have known was unloaded, utter a frantic 
prayer, aim the weapon at his heart, and fire, dropping to 
the floor an inert mass. He recovered after a while, but 
it was a perilous experiment. In a hundred ways I know 
I am not deceived, and that these phenomena are genuine 
and all significant. 

“ That they have been so long treated with supercilious 
derision by the learned, surrendered to traveling showmen 
and exploiting laymen, neglected even when not rejected, 
and left to make their way, like the truths of all revela- 
tions, by ‘ the mouths of babes and sucklings,’ is the 
irony of science and the reproach even of that variegated 
empiricism which calls itself the ‘ medical orofession,’ ” 


XXXII. 


In short, the question suggested but hardly answered 
in this article was, could a mesmerized subject be 
unconsciously, led into sin? It was a line of thought 
that, because of my ignorance of mesmerism, had 
only vaguely floated through my mind. But with such a 
suggestion, scientifically propounded and presented as it 
was here, imagine my position : for I still loved this 
woman — ay, my love was intensified by the greater risks 
that environed her ; fully conscious was I too that her 
father was in his dotage, and that Rebecca’s influence was 
of so subtle a character as to make it more than ques- 
tionable whether, any evil though detected, could be con- 
strued otherwise than as committed of the girl’s own free 
will. 

I watched the house, and every one entering and leaving 
it, with new terrors. Daintily dressed men occasionally 
went up the stoop, and to my fevered fancy were surrep- 
titiously admitted; women, too, in finery that might have 
been purchased through sin. Could there be aught going 
on behind those dark brown walls more infamous than 
mere trickery ? 

A wild idea suggested itself to me of trying to counter- 
act Rebecca’s influence for evil by some other influence 
for good — by engaging, if possible, some one who had the 

173 


174 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


gift of mesmerism to counter-mesmerize Edna. But how 
could Edna be reached In order to be practiced on ? and 
who would have a power equal to Rebecca’s ? Then I re- 
verted to the old puzzle as to what could be Rebecca’s pur- 
pose. Was it to obtain money alone ? Of course she had 
brought Edna from the country for the performance, and 
of course she had visited the country the day I had seen 
her there, to procure her consent to come. Edna’s 
thorough subordination probably rendered her the most 
valuable substitute Rebecca could turn to in her dilemma. 
Besides this, I felt instinctively that the woman disliked 
me, and possibly it entered into her calculations to separate 
us, and even to degrade Edna out of spite for me. If so, 
to what lengths might she not go ? 

Amongst the many names which the books I read gave 
as authorities on the subject of mesmerism, that of a Doc- 
tor Henry appeared the most frequently. He was repre- 
sented to be a physician of acknowledged position in the 
scientific world, and was alluded to as being at the present 
moment engaged in conducting a series of experiments 
with a view to the adoption of hypnotism as a branch of 
study in the medical college of which he was one of the 
professors. He was, besides, a resident of New York, 
and it suddenly occurred to me to pay him a visit. 
As the directory gave me, in addition to his address, the 
hours at which he received his patients, the next morning 
found me in his waiting room, and, in due course of time, 
in the presence of a stumpy little man with large specta- 
cles and closely cropped gray hair. On mentioning the nature 
of my business, however, I noticed that his frank and easy 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 1 75 

manner changed to one of sudden caution. In fact it was 
not till I had told him that my interest was purely scien- 
tific that he became communicative. Referring to the 
experiments he was making, he thereupon confirmed the 
statement that had appeared about him, by saying that he 
hoped to establish the study of hypnotism as part of 
the regular curriculum in the principal medical colleges 
of the city. As he proceeded, I could see that he was 
an enthusiast, and yet at the same time that he fully 
appreciated the many difficulties to be surmounted before 
the hoped-for result could be attained. 

“ The fact is,” he admitted, “ there is a great deal of 
prejudice amongst the faculty, and it is hard work to get 
them even to investigate the subject. There is a flavor 
of empiricism about it and they don’t like to have their 
names appear in connection with it. Hence I have to 
manage things very quietly. There is, besides, another 
great difficulty I labor under — that of procuring honest 
subjects. You never can be quite certain that they are 
not shamming. I have frequently gone to considerable 
expense to obtain these, and have lately been obliged to 
have an agent visit the places where public exhibitions of 
mesmerism are given, to procure them for me.” 

** Do you think persons under the influence of mesmer- 
ism could be made to commit some act quite foreign to 
their natures,” I asked — “ a crime, for instance ?” 

That is a problem which is attracting much attention 
in Europe at this very moment. I have long had it under 
consideration, and I now congratulate myself that I am in 
a position to investigate it. You see I have recently se- 


176 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


cured a subject that I know is genuine, and I promise 
myself some very interesting experiments on this very 
line.” 

I see by Mr. Croffut’s article in the North American 
Review," I continued, “that deep interest has been lately 
excited in France about a young girl whose lover had tired 
of her. It states that she was mesmerized by him, 
sent twenty-five miles off in a train, and then, influenced 
by his previously communicated suggestion, induced to 
commit suicide. Do you believe such a thing is 
possible ?” 

“ I certainly do not believe it would be possible with 
the ordinary ‘ responsive,’ but such a thing might occur 
with a phenomenally sensitive person. The fact is, so lit- 
tle is really known about mesmerism, people’s tempera- 
ments differ so radically too, that each person becomes 
a law to himself. I believe this, however, that the habit 
of being mesmerized grows on one, until it becomes as 
strongly developed a craving as that for opiates or alco- 
hol, and the more it is indulged in the weaker becomes 
the patient’s power to resist.” 

“ Well, granted that a person we will call A,” I said, 
“ was held by designing persons represented by B, and for 
criminal purposes, could B’s influence be counteracted by 
power for good represented by C, we will say ?” 

“Your question is a very suggestive one, but is really 
a development of your first. “ Before I could give any 
answer, I must convince myself that A can be made to 
commit crimes contrary to his inclination. This once 
demonstrated, it will be most instructive to investigate 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


177 


whether C, representing the good influence, could coun- 
teract the vicious, represented by B. I will certainly in- 
vestigate this subject.” 

“ Why not let me assist in your experiments ?” I asked 
eagerly. “ To tell the truth, sir, there is a young lady — ” 

I got no further. The reserve with which he had re- 
ceived me on my coming returned, and became so pro- 
nounced a suspicion that my mouth was closed effec- 
tually. 

“ I thought your interest was purely scientific,” he ob- 
served, “ You have raised a question that I frankly 
tell you I don’t mind looking into, but it is purely 
for the furtherance of science. If yo-u wish to see me 
again, however, you may do so freely, and if I can devel- 
op anything on the lines of your suggestion I will report 
to you. I will only do this, however, on the condition 
that it is in a strictly impersonal way, and that you don’t 
mention the name ©f any woman. Mesmerism in con- 
nection with ladies is a very delicate matter.” 


XXXIII. 


The next day my new counsel, Mr. Star, called to see 
me. “ After reading up the evidence in your trial very 
carefully again,” he said, “ I found only one fact that 
could serve as a clue to work upon.” 

“ But what is the use of going back over this old 
ground?” I asked wearily. “ I have become callous to 
what happens to me. My only thought now is to protect 
Edna.” 

“But without protecting yourself, how can you pro- 
tect her ? Besides, who can say that we may not hit in 
our investigations upon something that may criminate 
Rebecca herself ?” 

“Goon,” I answered; “ that is a contingency that war- 
rants any sacrifice.” 

“Well,” he resumed, “ the clerk at Newport who swore 
to your identity said in his evidence, you may remember, 
that his attention had been particularly directed to you 
from the circumstance of having once or twice seen you in 
company with a detective whom he had previously known 
in Chicago. So important did I consider this statement 
that I have just paid a flying visit to Newport where I 
had a long talk with this clerk. From what he said I 
believe that your double actually did visit Newport for 
some purpose connected with this burglary. 

178 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 1 79 

Now, under the head of a ‘ Singular Desertion ’ I find 
in this paper, continued Mr. Star, removing from his 
pocket an old copy of the New York World, a somewhat 
fuller account of the circumstances attending Fitzamble’s 
sudden disappearance than was given at the trial. At 
about nine o’clock in the evening, in fact immediately 
after the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Fitzamble from New- 
port by the afternoon train, the paper states that a carriage 
drove up to the hotel where they had alighted, and the oc- 
cupant sent a message to the bridegroom begging him to 
come outside. He gave the somewhat singular excuse that 
he, the visitor, was lame and could not very well leave the 
vehicle. Fitzamble himself is represented as being sur- 
prised at this, but nevertheless went out and was seen to 
enter the carriage. A suspicious circumstance is that 
one of the waiters thought he detected a man loitering on 
the opposite side of the carriage, who, after the entrance 
of Fitzamble, sprang in by the other door. Immediately 
afterwards the carriage drove rapidly away through the 
darkness as if by a preconcerted arrangement. 

“ Now, starting with the presumption that the lady was as 
beautiful then as you represent her to be at present, and 
that he had married her only a few hours before, as he 
did, is it as likely that he left of his own free will as that 
he was forced away? Did not the statement that the vis- 
itor was lame look as if he hesitated showing himself, and 
might not the man who sprang in from the other side 
have done so for evil intent? It is a very simple matter 
to kidnap a man in some such way as this when he is off 
his guard.” 


i8o 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


But the motive ?” I objected. 

“That’s just what I’m coming to,” continued Mr. 
Star, “ carrying out the idea of the Newport clerk that 
Fitzamble was a detective engaged in unraveling the 
burglary, might not the guilty parties have become 
alarmed and have kidnapped him to prevent his testifying ? 
Might it not be that on your appearance they mistook 
you for Fitzamble turning up again, and in spite of the 
long interval that had elapsed stiii feared you as 
possessed of some proof that you might yet bring up 
against them ?” 

“But would they go to such lengths,” I asked, “to 
prevent this testimony coming out ? I should think they 
would be running more risk than it was worth.” 

“ I confess they ought to have had some better excuse,” 
said Mr. Star, “but I am convinced we are on the right 
track. 

“To return to the hotel clerk, however, he told me the 
name of the detective in whose company he remembered 
seeing you, and I telegraphed from Newport to the Chi- 
cago agency. I have just received a reply stating that 
there is such a man still in their employ, and they offer 
to send him on if his presence is necessary and if I will pay 
all expenses. I thought it better to ask your consent.” 

“ Telegraph at once,” I said, “and let him come on at 
the earliest moment.” 


XXXIV. 


In the midst of my numerous perplexities I have quite 
forgotten to state that the reason I had for believing that 
Edna must be still domiciled at Rebecca Seaton’s was 
because she was neither at her father’s city or country res- 
idence. This information Mr. Star had procured for me 
just before his departure for Newport, and he had learned 
it from the porter of the apartment house where her fathei 
lived when in town. I had persuaded Mr. Star to enquire 
because of the long time that I had watched Rebecca’s 
house without result. 

On the second evening after the events recorded in the 
last chapter I was occupying my habitual seat in the 
bow window of my sitting room, with my eye fixed on 
Rebecca’s stoop, when I noticed a carriage drive up and 
deposit three men at her door. It was too dark to dis- 
tinguish their features or even their general appearance ; 
and besides this they were admitted without delay, as if 
their coming had been expected. Heretofore the calls of 
visitors had been generally confined to the daytime, and 
while I was vrondering as -to whether their coming might 
have aught to do with Edna a second carriage drove up, 
out of which four men got. These likewise were admit- 
ted with the same dispatch. As a rule, of an evening, 
too, the windows of the lower floor showed that the gas 

i8i 


i 82 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


was partially lighted, but now they were as dark as the 
night itself. At last as I watched, however, the gas was 
turned on, and, the parlors becoming suddenly illuminated^ 
I could see the dark shadows of people from the inside 
crossing the drawn blinds, as if engaged in dancing. 
What infernal orgy was taking place ? Was Edna the cen- 
tral figure of it — not Edna in her right-mindedness and 
purity, but in that other phase of her character that so 
distressed me ? And I thought how extraordinary it was 
that while I had a double, she had a double character to 
match. Was it possible each of these characters of hers 
— I mean her dream character and her real character — 
could have each one an affinity and which she had claimed 
as her own — me for the good and Fitzamble for the bad ? 

These very lights and shadows — were they not typical 
of her double-sidedness ? The idea was confused and I 
walked up and down my room with an anxiety impossible to 
describe, stopping every now and then at the window and 
looking across. Once I could have sworn I saw Edna’s 
graceful figure cut in black silhouette on the blind, to 
be quickly replaced by the elephantine proportions of 
another woman whose figure I knew- equally well and yet 
so loathed. At last the heavy rep curtains were dropped 
across the blinds, and, save for a narrow streak of light be- 
tween them, the v/indows were as black as before the gas 
was turned on. What did this new move portend ? Some- 
thing of which the bare shadows should not reveal the tale ? 
You may think me over- wrought and supersensitive, but 
did I not have cause for uneasiness? Put yourself in my 
place, and put the woman you love as I still did — Edna-— 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 1 83 

within the ugly walls of that house. Remember the evil 
influences that I knew controlled her, and besides the 
reason I had for thinking that criminality lurked therein, 
from the fact of having observed my two assailants leav- 
ing the mansion. Think, too, of my conversations with 
Dr. Henry, wherein he had partially confirmed the possi- 
bility of my worst suspicions. Add to this what I had 
with my own eyes seen Edna do, remember her senile 
father and my own helplessness, and then ask yourself 
whether you would not have had the same anxiety that I 
had. And as T walked about my room and anon looked 
out, drawn by the horrid fascination across the way, rage, 
jealousy, hatred, all the mixed emotions one is capable 
of experiencing, swept in quick succession through my 
breast. At last the suspense became actually unendur- 
able. I picked up my hat, intending to cross the street 
and take a nearer stand. I had barely reached the sidewalk^ 
however, when I abruptly drew back on perceiving that some 
one was coming out of the house I had been watching — 
some one who seemed to glide down the stoop like a ghost 
and who was coming in my direction. As it was very 
dark, my instinct rather than my eyesight told me that it 
was Edna. My first impulse was to run over and detain 
her; my second and better one to see on what mission she 
was bent. Noiselessly I followed her, and as she passed 
under the lamp post that stood on the corner and turned 
down Park avenue, I could see that she was in the same 
wakeful trance I had before seen her in. It added to the 
fascination her presence had for me, became an uncanny 
fascination — the kind one might have for a sleep walker. 


184 the romance of an alter ego. 

It separated her from me by a chasm almost as impassable 
as death, rendering me callous to outside circumstances 
and to the fact that a carriage had started up behind us 
and was slowly following us as we went. 

Our course lay westwards, and on reaching Madison 
avenue she turned down that street. Once or twice I ap- 
proached her side and looked up into her face. Though 
she failed to recognize me, I thought my presence dis- 
turbed her, so I dropped behind. Down Madison avenue 
we went, that gloomiest of all streets, rendered addition- 
ally gloomy now because so many of its residents were 
out of town and their houses closed. Once or twice I 
thought I heard carriage wheels, as if we' were yet being 
followed, but so absorbed was I in watching every move of 
Edna’s that I scarcely turned my head. Arrived at Mad- 
ison Square, I became disagreeably aware of the greater 
number of persons about, and the benches in the park 
were crowded as usual. People looked at her inquisitive- 
ly, and men, seeing her beauty, often turned and followed. 
My impatience could be restrained no longer, and barely 
had we passed the great fountain in the middle of the 
square, now filled with flowers, when I approached her 
and addressed her for the first time. 

She turned. “ Why do you call me Edna ?” she asked. 
“ My name is Aspasia. Will you come with me to the 
dance to-night ? Come ! The wine flows merrily, and of 
what use is it but to drown our cares?” 

“ Edna ! Edna !” I cried, ‘‘ are you mad ?” 

“ I know no Edna ! My name is Aspasia, I say. Give 
me your hand, and we will drink of life’s pleasure to- 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 1 85 

gether. See, the light glistens on the houses.” And she 
pointed to the buildings and hotels across the street on 
Broadway, that shone white through the trees. “ Did 
Athens ever look so bright ?” 

“ Edna! Edna! for Christ’s sake let me take you home ?” 
I cried. 

We had reached by this time the southeast side of the 
park, bordered by Twenty-third street, and I got my arm 
about her waist, making for a carriage that had just drawn 
up to the curbstone. I took for granted that it was 
returning to its stand and was consequently disengaged. 
Into this I hastily decided to place her. Then as I drew 
her towards it she screamed, and a woman with flaming 
cheeks and a red shawl — a woman of elephantine propor- 
tions and of accursed memory — unexpectedly descended 
from the carriage together with three men. 

“ Unhand that woman!” I heard some one cry, and then 
I was struck at with a cane. In trying to seize it my own 
arms were suddenly seized by one of the men, who had 
got behind me, and with a jerk and a wrench of the back 
I found myself flung over on to the grass plot bordering the 
side of the street. As I lay there I saw Rebecca lead 
Edna to the carriage, and the three men, re-entering it, 
drove rapidly away towards Fourth avenue. 

I was a little slow in picking myself up. My back felt 
stiff and pained me considerably; consequently when I 
got to the curbstone and looked down the street, the car- 
riage was a considerable distance off. Before I could se- 
cure a cab it had disappeared in the darkness. My 
first impulse, as usual, was to drive to the nearest 


i86 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


police Station and get out a warrant against Rebecca. 
Nevertheless, I resolved to act cautiously. My affection 
for Edna was too sincere to sacrifice aught by a hasty ac- 
tion, and I would not permit myself to be influenced by 
any feeling of resentment at my own treatment. Besides, 
it would be impossible to serve any warrant upon Rebecca 
till her return to her own home, for the very efficient reason 
that I was unaware whither she had driven. Consequently 
I decided to go and consult Mr. Star, who, I remembered 
now, had told me that he could generally be found at his 
club at this hour. On arriving at the Manhattan I was 
informed by the porter that he was sitting on the back ve- 
randa, and as I waited in the hall for my card to be taken 
to him I endeavored to conceal my agitation from the 
assembled guests. Amongst these I perceived my old 
lawyer, Mr. Slocum, and the hurried manner in which he 
left the building at sight of me caused me to laugh in spite 
of myself. Nevertheless, he had good cause — my coat was 
torn, my manner was extremely excited, and I have no 
doubt he heartily congratulated himself that my distressing 
complications had been transferred to another’s shoulders. 

On telling Mr. Star of my adventure he expressed him- 
self as more than pleased that I had not applied to the 
police court. 

“ Rebecca would probably appear to-morrow,” he said, 
“ and explain that Edna had freely put herself under her 
charge because of a flighty disposition and as subject to 
occasional fits of aberration; that in one of these fits her 
ward had escaped from the house and that she had pursued 
her; that in the darkness she did not recognize you, but 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 1 87 

seeing what she supposed was a strange man attempt to 
take Edna by the waist, that she had called upon a by- 
stander to protect her from insult. Some such explana- 
tion as this she would give, and it would be extremely diffi- 
cult for you to disprove it. Of course, as I have said 
before, if you were really married you would be in a 
different position, but, having appealed from the decision 
of the courts that would have made you out to be Edna’s 
husband, your interference would be held as absolutely 
ridiculous. By your own sworn statements you are 
nothing to her.” 

“ But is there nothing that I can do, then ?” I asked. 

“Yes ; you can wait. I expect the detective on from 
Chicago to-morrow, and I hope yet to connect this woman 
in some way with the criminal assaults you have been 
subjected to. I have another resource, however, which I 
have been thinking over in case all others fail. It is still 
merely in embryo, and I would prefer not to tell you yet 
what it is. In the meanwhile, I would make one last ap- 
peal to her father. If you can induce him to take any 
action against this woman, well and good; my only desire 
is to prevent your getting more deeply involved in the 
entanglements of the law than you are at present, which 
might render it difficult for you to act when the proper 
time comes.” 

As I had the utmost confidence in my new adviser, I re- 
solved to follow his counsel implicitly; so promising to call 
first on Mr. Dalzelle and later on Mr. Star himself (at the 
hour he told me the detective from Chicago might be ex- 
pected to arrive at his office), I left him and returned home. 


XXXV. 


Now, on stopping next day at Mr. Dalzelle’s I was in- 
formed that that gentleman was out and in all likelihood ' 
would not be at his office during the entire day; conse- 
quently I found myself at Mr. Star’s office a little ahead 
of the hour fixed, and as he was engaged I tried to while 
away the time in the magnificent view to be had from his 
lofty window. Twenty-five squares miles, I should think, 
of river were before me, glistening in the morning sun, 
and the tops of houses, lessening in height according to 
their distance, seemed like veritable steps descending to 
the water. From every house-top steam from pipes and 
chimneys shot up in the air ; and the great unceasing hum 
of the vast city was borne upwards to my ear. 

I was disturbed by a loud knock at the door, followed 
by the entrance of a tall man in a long duster. At first 
he failed to see me, but when his eye caught mine his 
astonishment knew no bounds. He stopped, hesitated, 
then rushing forward with extended hand, cried : “Well, 
I didn’t expect to find you here ; but though you’ve 
treated me pretty shabbily, upon my word I’m glad to 
see you again.” 

I tried to explain that Fitzamble and myself were not 
one and the same person. 

Oh! that don’t wash,” he continued. ‘ ‘ You’re a trifle 

i88 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 1 89 

Stouter and your beard is cut in a slightly different way 
from how you used to wear it, but if you ain’t Henry 
Jones, alias George Henry Fitzamble, I’m not Stephen 
Lyman, that’s all.” 

His words and manner both assured me of the strength 
of the resemblance. 

Allowing for argument’s sake,” said Mr. Star, who had 
followed him into the room, “ that this gentleman is your 
old acquaintance, tell me all you know about him, and 
everything you can remember down to the minutest de- 
tail, just as if he weren’t present.” 

“ Well, as he’ll tell you himself,” observed the stranger, 
after a slight pause, “we first became acquainted in 
Chicago while we were serving together as Pinkerton 
detectives. On my coming East the acquaintanceship was 
interrupted for a short spell and was then resumed in a 
somewhat unexpected fashion. You see I had left Chicago 
to follow up a case that took me to Connecticut, and I had 
just finished my business there when I heard of an exten- 
sive burglary at Newport. The reward was very large, so, 
having nothing to detain me, I started for New York to 
confer with the police. At the depot, however, just as I 
arrived, I happened to meet my old acquaintance here, and 
it suggested itself to me that if I could only secure his co- 
operation it would save delay in the city and be better than 
any assistance I could secure at the department. When I 
proposed, however, that he should immediately accom- 
pany me off again on a new trip, he strongly objected. I 
forget his exact excuse, but I think he told me he had 


190 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


got leave from the agency in Chicago and had come to 
New York to look up one of his relatives. 

** After representing to him, however, the size of the 
reward and my extreme anxiety for his assistance, he 
finally consented to postpone his search, and we started 
off for Newport by the first train. On arriving there he 
went to the Ocean House and I to the Acquidneck, pass- 
ing ourselves off as gentlemen of leisure to better prose- 
cute our investigations. Now, while these resulted in 
absolutely nothing so far as the burglary was concerned, 
the visit to Newport proved a turning point in my friend’s 
career. Imagine my surprise when he came to me one 
day and informed me that he was sick of the whole de- 
tective business, and that he was going to marry a lady 
whose acquaintance he had made in the hotel, and begin 
life anew. A few days after he did marry her and I never 
saw him since. The lady, I believe, was wealthy, and I 
supposed she resented his keeping up with his old chums.” 

“ Do you think he was really in love with this lady ?’* 
asked the lawyer. 

“ I never saw anyone so moon-struck in my life.” 

“ Was he likely to have basely deserted her immediate- 
ly after his marriage ?” 

“ The last man in the world to do anything base. In- 
deed, we used to call him ‘gentlemanly George,’ not so 
much because his ways were different from ours, as be- 
cause he always had such a nice sense of honor.” 

“ Could any one have had a motive for abducting him 
within eight hours of his marriage ?” 

“ Not that I know of,” 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. I91 

** Was there any business he was engaged in at Chicago 
that would have rendered it expedient for any one or any 
set of people to make away with him?" 

“ Well, I can’t answer that. You see, I had been sepa- 
rated from him for the last few months that he was in 
(Chicago, and was not likely to have heard." 

“ Could the perpetrators of the burglary you came to 
investigate have feared your discoveries ?" 

“ There was nothing for them to fear, for, as I said, we 
discovered nothing." 

Was not the period between the time you left him in 
Chicago and that of meeting him in the Grand Centra^ 
Depot, one of considerable disturbance in Chicago ?" 

There always is disturbance in Chicago." 

** But especially so then ?" 

“ Well, the labor troubles were just beginning, and the 
Anarchist troubles also, but the worst of them didn’t come 
till the time of the explosions in the Haymarket, long 
after he was gone." 

“ Very well,’’ said Mr. Star, inasmuch as you are not 
aware in what branch of work your friend was engaged 
during that interval, I desire you to return to Chicago 
to-night and to learn exactly. Then come back here and 
report to me. You shall be well paid for your time, and 
I feel convinced the department will not only permit of 
your second absence, but will facilitate your inquiries to 
the utmost of its power.’’ 

The detective received these instructions with a nod of 
the head. 

“ Do you know, sir," he resumed after a pause, “ there 


192 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


is one circumstance that makes me think my friend was 
abducted after all, and that this gentleman here, in spite 
of his resemblance to him, is not the man I at first sup- 
posed. I had forgotten the circumstance till you came to 
speak of money.” 

“ What is it?” asked Mr. Star. 

“ Why, three days before the wedding I lent him twen- 
ty-five dollars, which he promised to repay in a week’s 
time. He was the most particular man in such matters I 
ever met, and the fact that he failed to send it to me con- 
vinces me that something must have happened to prevent 
his doing so after all. T will start to-night, and report as 
soon as I have learned anything.” 

I must confess the interview confirmed me in the opin- 
ion of my new lawyer’s ability. We must go back into 
the past to pick up the threads, he had said, and lo! Fitz- 
amble, from a myth, was becoming an actual personality. 


XXXVI. 


Alas ! if I could only have controlled my impatience 
and have followed out the spirit as well as the text of my 
lawyer’s advice ! 

I made it my invariable habit to absent myself from 
my rooms for as short a time as possible, so immediately 
on leaving Mr. Star's I returned home and took a seat in 
my bay window. Then, as I sat there that long after- 
noon, my thoughts for other occupation traveled back- 
wards, and I became lost in the quiet contemplation 
of my own pleasing situation from its first inception, 
commencing with the extraordinary act of Edna in 
claiming me as her husband, and the equally extra- 
ordinary rulings of the court that had sustained her in 
her suit; then my appeal from this decision, and, run- 
ning counter to this appeal, the gradual change in my 
sentiments for her. 

Through this situation, sufficiently complicated, one 
would think, already, the attempts on my life, including the 
Coney Island assassination, ran like garish threads on a 
variegated background, and, interlacing these again, the 
mysterious subordination of Edna to Rebecca Seaton. 
So complicated was it all that I wrote it down on a piece 
193 , , 


194 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


of paper, much as it is at present before the leader, and 
wondered whether any one circumstance could ever ac- 
count for the many seemingly disconnected, not to say 
antagonistic, coincidences that made up the confused web. 
So occupied was I with my own reflections that I failed 
to notice the ringing of the front door bell, and was at last 
only brought back to present reality by hearing some one 
knocking at my portals. Rising at last to acknowledge 
the summons, I opened the door, and started back in very 
natural astonishment as I detected Theophilus with his 
large ears darkening the passageway. 

Imagining myself to be so secretly installed in my re- 
treat, the visit was as unexpected as it was unwelcome. 

“The missus sends her respects,” said Theophilus, 
twirling his hat, “ and begs to say she’d be pleased for 
you to call over to her home.” 

“ How did she discover my address?” I inquired in my 
surprise. The very ears of Theophilus seemed to smile. 

“ The missus she owns this yere house now, and her 
tenant, which is the landlady, told her you had took these 
rooms the day before you moved in.” 

“ I’ll go over with you at once,” I replied briefly, and 
without more ado Theophilus pulled the dilapidated opera 
hat, which constituted his headgear, down to his large 
ears, and valiantly led the way across the street. 

A wild hope that I might see Edna induced my ready 
acquiescence in Rebecca’s request, but it was dashed to 
the ground by finding the oracle in solitary glory, en- 
sconced in her usual seat behind the table. 

“ Theophilus,” she observed, after receiving me with a 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 1 95 

majestic grandeur worthy of Isabel of Spain — “ Theoph- 
ilus, you can take the alcohol bottle around to the drug- 
gist, and mind you, if it comes back diluted, as it did the 
last time, with any furren compound, there’ll be a shortage 
of wages for the next three months.” 

However unintelligible the above might be to a casual 
visitor like myself, it seemed quite comprehensible to 
Theophilus, who, taking the bottle, closed the door behind 
him as he went out. 

On his withdrawal she turned upon me with quite a 
different manner. 

Now look a-here, young man,” she said, “ I’ve sent 
around to you with a special object; until I had this ob- 
ject I didn’t send. That’s my way; until I’m ready to 
speak, I holds my mouth shut, but when I’m ready I lets 
it open, and I’m going to let it open now. What do you 
mean a-spying and a-peeking up at this yere house all day, 
as if you was a boy at a tuppenny show a -waitin’ for the 
curtain to go up ?” 

If ever I felt inclined to answer a woman’s question 
with a blow, I felt inclined then. In spite of her brutality 
and coarseness, I knew her to be a wily, clever woman, 
and I must be wary in turn. I also thought I detected in 
her manner a desire to enrage me and thus to draw me 
out as to my ultimate intentions in regard to Edna; con- 
sequently I resolved not to “ give myself away,” but, on 
the contrary, to try to draw her out. 

‘ ‘ Was it to ask this that you sent for me ?” I said. 

That was one of my objects.” 


196 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

“ Then, in reply, allow me to state that possibly you will 
discover a cause for my conduct before long.” 

“ It won’t be long before I do,” she answered, “ whether 
I learns it from you or other parties; but I tell you this, 
that it’s got to stop.” 

What’s got to stop ?” 

This yere spyin’ and nosin’ into other people’s busi- 
ness. So long as Edna Dalzelle freely comes to me for 
medical advice — ” 

“ Medical advice!” I insinuated. 

“ Yes, so long as she comes here for medical advice, 
it ain’t you nor a dozen like you as can get her away.” 
And she snapped her fingers at me. 

‘‘ We will see about that,” I answered. 

She rose from her seat. 

“ Aaron Simoni, I give you fair warning not to cross my 
path : I’m a dangerous person to cross.” 

“ That remains to be proved,” I continued in the same 
laconic style I had adopted, for I saw by her rising passion 
that it was beginning to tell. 

“ Oh! that remains to be proved, do it? Now look 
here. Once more, and for the last time, I ask you, 
will you give up your quarters in this street and go 
back to your hotel, or the devil itself, where you came 
from ?” 

“ I will use my own discretion about that.” 

“Then if you don’t, by God, I’ll degrade her to the 
dirt beneath my feet! I’ll make her worse nor the women 
as walks the pavements for a livin’. I’ll — 

“ No, you won’t,” I exclaimed. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER* EGO. 


197 


“I won’t? Why won’t I?” — thrusting her face near 
rny own as she squared herself before me. 

“ Because if the law won’t give me the right to pro- 
tect her, by the living God ! I’ll take it into my own 
hands.” 

Carried away by my emotions, I seized her by the 
throat. At that moment I could have murdered her, and 
it was not till she was almost black in the face that I 
relaxed my hold and she fell back heavily across the 
table. 

“Now do your worst,” I said. “I’m expecting evi- 
dence against you that will convict you, and have only 
been induced to delay action till it arrives; but in the 
meanwhile if you do anything more to Edna, mark my 
words, you’ll pay for it.” 

She lay back against the table moaning and cursing, 
and thus I left her, sustained by the conviction that if 
ever a man had the right to raise his hand against a 
woman I had had it. And yet, in spite of the bravery of 
my words and the righteous punishment I had inflicted 
upon her, a wild terror seized me as to whether Edna 
might not have to bear the brunt. What effect would my 
conduct have on her? I kept asking myself, and the 
shadows of night that soon after began to fall could not 
compare with those that were falling over my own soul. 

Though I actually felt ashamed to go and communi- 
cate to my lawyer what I had done, yet every step on the 
deserted pavement outside increased my alarm as I re- 
alized that if I were arrested Edna would be deprived 
of her only protector. 


198 THE 'romance of AN ALTER EGO. 

All strong passions are brought out by opposition. We 
battle and struggle and wail and poetize for Helen carried 
to Troy, though perhaps, rescued and reduced to the 
snug comfort of a suburban villa and an assured com- 
petency, Helen herself might “pan out very flat.” 

How can I describe my dreams that night ? The 
halls of Greece as represented by the hideous buildings 
surrounding Madison Square, and that, according to poor 
Edna, shone so brightly, again appeared to me in my 
sleep. 

Some time ago in Chicago, over a mantel-piece in a 
millionaire’s palace I saw a marble Italian relief that 
made a great impression on me. It represented the steps 
of a temple on the occasion of a festival to Bacchus, and 
the doors of this temple were bursting open before the 
maddened crowd who came flooding down. In their 
midst was delineated the most exquisite woman I ever 
saw, mounted on a leopard. Now, in my dreams the face 
of this woman was changed to Edna’s, and she and the 
marble throng became alive. I could see her eyes light 
up with mad deviltry as she raised the cup with seduc- 
tive gesture to the crowd, or anon pressed it to her wine- 
stained lips. All the people in the foreground bore 
familiar faces. Here was Mr. Star ; here were the two 
men who had assailed me ; here was Mr. Dalzelle, 
and leading the leopard were Rebecca and Dr. Henry, 
while slinking away in one corner was my old lawyer, 
Mr. Slocum, just as he had slunk away from me at 
the club — all, with the last exception, carried away with 
the mad abandon the moment, and the doors of the 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 1 99 

temple bursting open before them as like a wave they 
swept down the steps.* 

It was the most awfully realistic dream I think I ever 
had, and seemed to typify the utter transformation of 
character under Rebecca Seaton’s lead that without my 
protection Edna would suffer. 

I rose next morning with the conviction that this pro- 
tection, slight as it was, might be withdrawn at any mo- 
ment because of my rash treatment of Rebecca Seaton 
the previous afternoon; yet if it had not been for this con- 
sideration I think, on the whole, I should have courted 
arrest as likely to bring affairs to a head. So convinced 
was I, however, that my summons would follow that, on 
hearing the bell ring and my name mentioned out in the 
hall, I actually seized my hat, but whether to fly, or to resist, 
or to go willingly I can hardly say. It was only a mes- 
senger boy who brought me a note. I took it up wearied- 
ly. It was perfumed and delicate. I looked at it more 
carefully. It was addressed in a hand that was familiar. 
My heart gave a sudden bound. Expecting arrest, the 
transition between that and a note from Edna — Edna Dal- 
zelle herself — was too violent. I drank a pint of whisky 
before my agitation would permit of my breaking the 
seal. On opening it I read these few lines : 

“ If you can find it convenient to call upon me to-day, 
I should like to see you for a few minutes’ conversation. I 
shall be at my father’s house between ten and eleven. 

“ Edna Dalzelle.” 

* The sculptor, as I subsequently learned, was barely nineteen 
years of age, named Beulluri, and, though a Spaniard by birth, 
resided in Rome. 


200 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


That messenger boy had cause to mark as a red-letter 
day in the calendar the one on which he brought me her 
note. Ah God ! How we work ourselves up to a period 
of ecstatic expectancy, and then how sudden is the de- 
scent ! 

As the clock in the nearest church tower struck ten, I 
was ringing the bell of her apartment, and was admitted 
by my old friend the colored butler. Bless his soul ! I so 
far forgot all semblance of decorum as to shake him cor- 
dially by the hand. Then he led me into the sitting room, 
and the next moment I was before her. 

I was prepared to see her eyes circled with dark rings, 
to have her look worn and at least wearied ; I was conse- 
quently agreeably disappointed in seeing her in her usual 
appearance of health. Yet there was a certain air about 
her that was not quite her own, that placed a barrier be- 
tween us, and that I could only account for by the sup- 
position that she was acting a part that had been laid 
down for her in advance. She received me in a cold, re- 
strained way, chilling in me the warm effusiveness that 
was ready to gush out. Indeed, she never asked me to 
sit down, so I remained standing. Could she still be under 
the subtle and controlling influence of Rebecca Seaton ? 
And yet I had no reason to suppose Rebecca was upon 
the premises. 

sent for you,” she said, ^Uo ask you whether you 
think you have lately been treating me as a gentleman 
should ?” 

“ What have I done?” I asked, wishing to make her de- 
fine herself. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


201 


“You have constituted yourself a spy on my con- 
duct; you have subjected me to an espionage little short 
of the shadowing of a detective.” 

“ But think, Edna, how I am situated towards you. I 
could not accept our last interview as final.” 

“I fully recognize your position,” she said, ‘‘and I 
know I have much to reproach myself with, but you 
gave me up voluntarily; you must at least acknowledge 
that.” 

“ Edna, I only asked you to break off your connection 
with a woman who changes all your better nature; who 
makes you other than you really are; who prevents you 
being natural even now — don’t interrupt me. You have 
never done me justice is my reason for asking you to give 
her up. Think of the grief it causes me to see you going 
on as you are.” 

“How am I going on? Explain yourself,” she con- 
tinued, with an increasing coldness and reserve. 

“ Edna, though I care for you the same as I ever did, 
the only thing I ask now is to guard you from evil. If I 
can do this I am willing to sacrifice even my hope of re- 
gaining your affection. For she is trying to master your 
better nature, trying deliberately — ” 

“ What do you mean ?” 

“ Trying to lower you to her level, a few nights ago 
making you publicly exhibit yourself in a common music- 
hall, and the night before last walk the streets of this 
city as — ” 

“ As what ? ” she asked. 

“ As Aspasia ! ” 


202 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER ECO. 


** As Aspasia ? Enough, sir; you must be mad or intoxi- 
cated. Leave ihe house this instant ! That I should suffer 
recrimination from you is natural, but I had yet to learn 
that I must suffer insult. Enough! Your way lies there; 
I will take care of my own conduct.” 

I had not said exactly what I wanted to say; indeed, 
the interview had been awkward and constrained all 
through. As I reached the hall Rebecca Seaton’s un- 
expected appearance from a side door went far to explain 
Edna’s unnatural manner. 

“ Now you have it from her own mouth ! ” she cried. 
‘‘Once and for the last time, will you give up this 
spying ?” 

“I will not,” I answered. “I am more decided than 
ever, for I can now fully appreciate the hold you have 
secured over her.” 

Then you will rue the day you ever crossed my 
path.” 


XXXVII. 


Rebecca’s presence was the one thing needed to assure 
me that Edna had been under her spell during my visit, 
and had most likely been acting semi-consciously, so to 
speak, on a previously given line of instructions. So per- 
fect was the woman’s control that she could allow her 

subject ” to retain her own personality and yet warp it 
to suit hei; own purpose. I shuddered, for it was the 
most conclusive proof yet of her power. Had I thought 
otherwise — I mean had I thought that Edna’s words and 
manner reflected her true sentiments — I would not have 
hesitated about breaking off my connection with her there 
and then. 

As I left the house and pondered on the continuation 
of this influence of Rebecca, doubts began to rise for 
the first time in my mind as to whether my new lawyer 
had rightly advised me to take no definite action against 
her. Owing to the rapidity with which events had crowd- 
ed themselves upon me, I had, however, neglected his 
advice about seeing Mr. Dalzelle and making one last 
effort to induce him to exercise his paternal authority. To 
be sure, I had called upon him, but, as the reader may re- 
member, I had not gained admittance, and I had not re- 
peated my visit. As the present moment seemed to offer 
a favorable opportunity, I proceeded directly down town 
203 


204 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


to his office, where 1 presumed he would now be. My 
visit was as fruitless as my last, if not more discouraging. 
One of his clerks came out and bluntly informed me that 
his employer was unable to receive me, and further intimat- 
ed that there was no use in my continuing my visits. 
The rebuff excited my pity rather than my indignation 
against the old gentleman and confirmed me in the belief 
that Rebecca’s malign influence had extended to him. 
How I cursed his weakness and his besotted folly, not 
because of his rudeness towards me, but because of his 
callousness toward his daughter ! I had resolved to save 
her, and save her I would; but Mr. Dalzelle’s conduct 
threw me back upon myself, and yet the only.hope that 
remained now was the return of the detective from Chic- 
ago, bringing with him intelligence that might criminate 
Rebecca — a very faint hope indeed. 

As my retreat was discovered and 1 could probably 
learn little, if anything, by continuing my vigils at my win- 
dow, I repaired, on leaving Mr. Dalzelle’s, to Dr. Henry’s 
Instead of to my lodgings. He lived in the upper portion 
of the city, but though I walked all the way I arrived at 
his residence within three hours of my last meeting with 
Rebecca — a fact that I hope the reader will bear in mind. 
As his morning office hours were just closing, he was pre- 
paring to leave the house as I entered, so I followed him 
out. In reply to my questions as to how his experiments 
were progressing, his little red face fairly beamed with 
enthusiasm. 

“ Why, there’s nothing like the success that I’ve had 
in the whole range of mesmerism,” he cried. This 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


205 


‘ sensitive ’ that I told you I had got hold of is a wonder. 
She is without question reliable, and so susceptible to the 
influence that a wide field of experiments is still before 
me.” 

Is it a woman?” I asked. 

“ Well, I confess that it is, and, to tell you the truth, I 
am just on my way now to make arrangements for an- 
other experiment that you suggested some time ago in 
your conversation. Do you remember, it was of the 
woman who was sent out and made to commit suicide by 
her lover. Of course I will arrange it so that she will do 
herself no injury, but, in order to demonstrate it to the 
physicians whom I shall take as witnesses, I must convince 
them that the woman believes her act will certainly result 
in her death. It will be a little difficult to manage, but I 
have thought of a way by which it can be accomplished. 
If this succeeds — as I have no doubt it will — I shall make 
the whole thing public, give the names of all the witnesses, 
the woman, and every one connected with it. I am sure, 
too, it will have great weight in establishing the extraor- 
dinary developments that mesmerism is capable of.” 

“You said that the other experiments had turned out 
well; do you mean to say that you have already proved^ 
and beyond question, that a person could be made to act 
in a manner repugnant to his or her nature ?” 

** I have had the most positive proof of it with this 
young woman of whom I spoke, and only the night before 
last.” 

We had been walking down in the direction of my lodg- 
ings, and consequently were approaching the street in 


2o6 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


which Rebecca’s house was in. So interested was I, 
however, in the conversation, that if I thought of it at all I 
merely supposed that the professor had gone out of his 
way to accompany me. 

“ You said you had the most positive proof of this the 
night before last ?” I repeated. 

“Yes; the experiment then was the most successful, 
although the previous ones surpassed my expectations. 
The night before last, however, at the College of Physi- 
cians, I demonstrated the thing completely.” 

“ The night before last ?” I repeated, in a brown study — ■ 
“ the night before last? Why, that’s very odd.” 

“ What’s very odd ?” 

“ Why, that your experiment should have been made 
two evenings ago.” 

“ Everything is odd about mesmerism. I tell you, my 
dear sir, the more you investigate it the more extraor- 
dinary you find it. There are so many conflicting — ” 

“Where is the College of Physicians ?” I interrupted. 

“Why, on the corner of Fourth avenue and Twenty- 
third street.” 

“ Fourth avenue and Twenty -third street? Why, that 
is only a block from Madison Square.” 

We had by this time reached the street in which I tem- 
porarily resided, and as we turned into it a couple of men 
unexpectedly presented themselves, as if they had been 
lying in wait for us. 

“ Is this Mr. Aaron Simoni ?” one of them asked of me. 

‘'That’s my name,” I answered, in much surprise. 
“What do you want?” 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


207 


“ We have an order from the court for your arrest,” he 
replied, showing a warrant. 

‘ ‘ My arrest ! On what charge ?” And I remembered 
Rebecca Seaton. 

“ On that of the Coney Island murder.” 

^‘The Coney Island murder!” I cried in my amaze- 
ment, for I had almost forgotten the circumstances. ‘‘ And 
who brings forward the charge ?” 

“ The people of the State of New York.” 

I turned to Dr. Henry, not so much to get him to ex- 
postulate in my behalf, as in the fear that the line of con- 
versation we had been on would be interrupted. 

‘‘ Let me have one word with this gentleman first,” I 
said. 

But Dr. Henry turned away. His astonishment at 
what had occurred seemed too great for words. A holy hor- 
ror of me seized him as his first suspicions of me appeared 
realized. 

“ I wish to have nothing to do with you at all,” he said; 
then turning to the officers: “ My name is Dr. Henry — 
Dr. James P. Henry. Here is my card. If you desire me 
at any time to explain what I know about this gentleman, 
and how I came to make his acquaintance, you have only 
to apply at that address. I have had my suspicions about 
him a long way back.” 

We know all about you, doctor, one of the men re- 
plied quite civilly, ‘‘and if the court needs your testimony 
at any time you will be subpoenaed. For the present all 
we want is him, and we have to thank you for putting him 
into our hands and saving us unnecessary trouble,’* 


XXXVIII. 


Rebecca Seaton had fired her shot after all, for I recog- 
nized her hand in the matter. Probably she had been 
holding back until she saw whether I would be influenced 
by Edna’s protest at my espionage and her request for 
me to desist from it. The charge against me was so ab- 
solutely absurd — the charge that I had committed a murder 
intended for myself — that my only consideration was as to 
the effect on Edna of my temporary incarceration. And 
yet as the gloomy portals of the prison closed upon me 
and I went over in my mind the circumstances of my 
visit to Coney Island, I began to have misgivings. 
Certain facts might be difficult to explain — why I had 
gone to Coney Island, and why I had so suddenly returned ; 
why I had not registered, and why I had left New York 
the next day for the country. Nevertheless, it was the 
last few words of my interrupted conversation with Dr. 
Henry that caused me most perplexity, far more indeed 
than my incarceration, and the terrible situation of merely 
being held on suspicion of such a crime. 

The idea of his experiments being conducted on the 
very night I had followed Edna, and, moreover, at the 
College of Physicians, towards which I had seen her being 
hastily driven away — this, as I say, caused me extreme 
208 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 209 

perplexity, and started a train of doubts and suspicions 
the reader will probably appreciate. 

I quite forgot to say that at the preliminary examination 
that followed my arrest I had wisely refused to say any 
thing further than to plead entire innocence of the charge, 
and, having learned the value of caution, I had thereupon 
sent for my lawyer, Mr. Star. 

Do you remember in Carlyle’s “French Revolution,” 
where the end was drawing on, how rapid was the 
culmination of events, and how startling circumstance 
crowded on the heels of startling circumstance with such 
lightning-like speed as to render the baldest enumeration 
of them alone possible? So it was in my case; only let 
this be remembered, that, with me, instead of the final catas- 
trophe it was rather the beginning of the end that was cul- 
minating. In reply to my message Mr. Star sent down 
towards evening a clerk from his office to say that a cer- 
tain very extraordinary event had occurred that would 
most likely have an immediate effect upon this new charge 
against me, and that he was consequently better engaged 
in attending to my affairs than by coming to me at once; 
that in all likelihood he would see me early on the following 
morning, after which date my incarceration would hardly 
be extended; in the meanwhile to answer no questions 
that might be put to me. 

Under this cheering intelligence I found my spirits 
rise, and I enjoyed no little the frugal meal which my 
jailer brought me. 

Indeed, there is nothing truer than that fortune, whether 
good or e'lil, never comes singly, and I felt that now, at 


210 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


the blackest period of my adventures, the clouds were 
breaking. Only breaking temporarily, however; for while 
the next four days of my life comprise the most ecstatic 
moments of my whole existence, yet could I have looked a 
little ahead I hardly think I should have been able to 
resist the temptation of lying down and giving up com- 
pletely. I was not at the end of my adventures; I was 
merely at the beginning of the end, and the clouds were 
only going to lift — a little. 

Having established a precedent by describing my 
dreams of the preceding night, allow me to say that the 
similarity of my position to the prisoner of Chillon was 
too striking not to be taken advantage of by my dreams 
to-night. I believe the best authorities have played sad 
havoc with that pleasing delusion, but the popular belief 
as represented by every school-boy’s primer found in me 
a realistic counterpart. Through my sleep I kept wear- 
ing away the stones of my cell in my ceaseless perambu- 
lations with a clanking chain about my foot. Now, if you 
will carry back your recollections to these school-book 
pictures, you may remember that there was a narrow 
window on one side of the cell, commanding a contracted 
view of the lake; my own opinion is that this window was 
simply inserted in the picture for artistic effect, and to 
permit the introduction of the iron bars that crossed it. 
Be this as it may, there it was in my dreams, and as I 
stopped every now and then in my imaginary walks, and 
looked out of this window at a rugged point of land extend- 
ing into the lake. Dr. Henry suddenly appeared in a costume 
of the period. Even in my dreams I could not help being 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


2II 


Struck by the ludicrous effect he presented, with his closely 
cropped gray hair standing up like the bristles in a brush, 
his green spectacles, his earnest face, and his wide velvet 
breeches. He seemed to be looking out for a con- 
venient spot for the prosecution of some fell design, the 
exact nature of which I could not distinguish. While I 
was gazing at him and wondering what he was going to do 
there, he was joined by another person, a woman, who 
looked familiar and whose countenance only gradually, as 
in dreams, assumed the familiar features of Rebecca Sea- 
ton. The two of them thereupon concealed themselves 
in some bushes along the water's edge, and kept peeping 
out through the leaves as though they were watching for 
the advent of a third person. 

Suddenly Edna Dalzelle approached. Her eyes were 
open, but they had that vacant, absent look which I had 
seen in them the evening I had followed her, and which 
showed that she was still under the influence of mesmerism. 
Passing by Rebecca and the doctor, without paying the 
slightest heed to them, she walked out upon the point un- 
til she finally arrived at a high rock that terminated it, and 
precipitated herself into the lake. Then everything be- 
came confused. I remember trying to force myself 
through the barred window to get to her rescue, and 
then I awoke in a cold perspiration with the light from 
the gas jet in the corridor shining on the whitewash of 
the cell. 

Because of his appearance in the dream, my mind re- 
called my last interview with Dr. Henry, and I naturally at- 
tributed my dream to it and to his having said that he was 


212 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


on his way to arrange an experiment that was to test the 
possibility of the story of the young French girl’s suicide. 
I mean the story that I had previously mentioned to him 
as having read in the North American Review, If the 
reader has forgotten it, let me briefly repeat that it was 
to the effect that the French authorities had lately been 
much exercised over the death of a woman whose lover, it 
was stated, on the score of being weary of her, had first 
put her under the influence of mesmerism and had then 
sent her off to a distance and made her destroy herself. 
So striking was the dream, so realistic, that to compose 
myself I got up and began as restless a walk as that of the 
prisoner of whom I had imagined myself the living counter- 
part. Two nights in succession Dr. Henry had appeared 
to me, which was odd of itself. Besides he had confessed 
tome that one of his experiments had been made the very 
night I had followed Edna. In addition to this the place 
had been the College of Medicine, on Fourth avenue 
Rnd Twenty-third street, down which — 

Great God ! The explanation came to me like a flash. 
Dr. Henry had been experimenting with Edna. She it was 
whom he had discovered, and whose extraordinary sensi- 
tiveness had so facilitated his investigations. 

I too, I, had been giving him a cue as to these same 
experiments, and had, moreover, been egging him on to 
continue and develop them. 

I fell back on my bed and tried to think it all out, but 
the process was maddening. How could I explain my 
dreams ? Simply that my mind at night had been clearer 
than during the day, and had unconsciously worked out a 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


213 


solution of facts which, though presented during my waking 
hours, could not be unraveled then owing to the confu- 
sion my mind was in. Dr. Henry and Rebecca leading the 
leopard, on which Edna was seated, was but a fanciful 
representation of her character as Aspasia, induced by 
these two. When I last saw the professor he was making 
arrangements for another experiment having suicide as 
the result. I had seen in my dreams the development of 
this — a suicide I had myself suggested, though in a 
different form, and of which he would have never thought 
but for me — the suicide of a woman I loved more than my- 
self: of Edna Dalzelle. 

There is a situation to moralize on that would make a 
novel of itself, and to any criticism on its exaggeration I 
can only reply that when you get on the subject of mes- 
merism, the gates of dreamland being open, you have free 
scope to indulge your fancy. Indeed, the temptation is 
strong within me to dwell upon this particular phase of 
my subject, but events are crowding upon each other, so 
thick and fast that I am obliged to hurry on. Let me say 
one thing, however, if only to account for the comparative 
peace of mind I now felt : I recognized that if my infer- 
ences about Dr, Henry with Edna were true, the experi- 
ments had been conducted on a scientific basis, and at 
the direction of a man whom I believed to be a gentleman 
both by instinct and training. 


XXXIX. 


Mr. Star presented himself early the next morning, and 
his pleased smile of welcome and his cheerful manner 
generally assured me that the good news I had received 
the past evening from his office would not be contradicted. 

“ A really most extraordinary incident happened yes- 
terday,” he said. “ You remember the man you chased up 
to the elevated railway station, and which circumstance 
led to our acquaintance ? Well, he was captured yesterday 
afternoon after a desperate struggle, during which he was 
shot through the head. The reason I could not come to 
you last evening was because I was detained in taking his 
dying deposition and in having it properly recorded. He 
confessed to having committed the murder at Coney 
Island, mistaking the victim for you, but absolutely re- 
fused to give his reasons or his accomplices, and died soon 
after. Nevertheless, so far as your incarceration is concern- 
ed, it is sufficient, and the charge against you falls to the 
ground. But I was also prevented from coming down 
to you yesterday by other business in your interest, the 
result of which will probably be as welcome when I tell 
you. What would be the most gratifying news that I 
could bring you?” And he looked at me quizzically. 

“ That Rebecca Seaton could change places with me 
here.” 


214 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 215 

“ Well,” he said, you have come pretty near it, for 
she is already arrested, and I have brought an order for 
your release.” 

“ Arrested !” I cried. “ On what charge ?” 

“ Well, it’s along story, but, to put it briefly, you must 
know that this estimable lady has had many strings to 
her bow. Among these was a wealthy lawyer in good 
practice whom she had got in her clutches, and whom, on 
the strength of spiritual manifestations, she had induced 
to settle on her about one-half of his personal estate. 
Now, if you may remember, I intimated to yon some time 
ago that I had a scheme in embryo that, if everything else 
failed, I might work up against her. Lately, as I had be- 
gun to despair of finding any criminal charge against her 
that we could prove, I have been revolving in my mind 
several projects to induce the heirs of this gentleman 
to invoke the law against her, and so break up her influence 
over Edna at the same time. This was one of my mo- 
tives in advising you to wait, 

‘‘A circumstance that only came to my ears yesterday 
greatly assisted me — namely, the recent transfer to her of 
a large amount of real estate, including the very house 
your lodgings were in. Now, I know this genueman very 
well. His name is Mr. Falkner, and on all other subjects 
than his sincere conviction in Rebecca’s supernatural 
powers his mind is as clear as a bell. As far as I can 
learn, she has exercised her sway over him by showing 
him blank pieces of canvas which gradually assume, by 
the use of some kind of acid or other, I suppose, the 
physiognomies of the heroes of antiquity. These invari- 


2i6 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


ably advise him, in mystic writing on her slate, to make 
over to her a hundred shares of railroad stock, a house, 
or a piece of land somewhere, and he is so deluded as to 
do it. On representing the case to the family of this gen- 
tleman, and on showing them that unless they took defi- 
nite action soon there would be nothing left of the estate, 
they finally consented to act, and late last night she was 
arrested on the charge of obtaining money under false 
pretences. So you see yesterday was a busy time for me, 
and you have not suffered by my failure to come down 
to you before.” 

I. grasped Mr. Star’s hand warmly, and went on to speak 
of Edna. Then his manner suddenly changed. 

“Well, it’s a little odd, but she was not at her father’s 
when I stopped there this morning to inquire, nor could 
I learn that she was at Rebecca’s. As regards the arrest, 
it was also somewhat peculiar. The officers who had the 
vrairant for Rebecca could not find her at her house, but 
they frightened Theophilus into telling them that she 
might be found at Dr. Henry’s. On following her there 
they learned that Dr. Henry was also absent, and had left 
word that he would not return until late in the night. 
The manner of Theophilus had raised in the officers’ 
minds the suspicion that she might have got wind of the 
arrest and escaped, so they returned to her house again, 
and on cross-questioning Theophilus they drew from him 
the unwilling admission that she had gone to a dock on 
the East Side of the city. This confirmed their suspicions 
as to her flight, so they immediately repaired thither, 
only to find Rebecca and Dr. Henry waiting together on 


THE romance op an ALTER EGO. 


217 


the end of the wharf. It was not so much the fact of dis- 
covering her in such company and at such an hour that 
perplexed the officers, as the peculiar manner of the 
doctor. 

“ He explained that one of the greatest experiments in 
the interest of science was about to be consummated, and 
begged them, with tears in his eyes, to delay the arrest but 
thirty minutes. His manner was such that they consid- 
ered him deranged, and though they only had a warrant for 
the woman, they arrested them both. I gained these 
particulars this morning, but they seemed, to point to 
Edna ; so, feeling anxious about her, I stopped, as I told 
you, at Mr. Dalzelle’s, and later at Rebecca Seaton’s, but 
she was at neither place.” 

Even before Mr. Star had finished speaking I had hit 
upon an explanation of the circumstances that had so 
puzzled the officers in whose hands had been confided the 
arrest of Rebecca. They had come upon her while she 
and Dr. Henry were waiting for Edna. Dr. Henry’s discom- 
fiture was to be explained as the disappointment of a scien- 
tific enthusiast whose experiment promised to be baffled. 

But if baffled, what had become of Edna ? If the ex- 
periment had been interrupted by Dr. Henry’s arrest, there 
had been no one to stay her suicide. I saw the whole sit- 
uation at a Prometheian flash. 

‘‘ Get me out of here at once,” I said. 

After a few preliminaries which I was too much agitated 
to exactly understand, the doors of my cell were opened 
and we passed out and down together. Our course lay 
past the ward reserved for women on a lower floor, and as 


2i8 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


I went down the stairs by it my eye unconsciously turned 
in that direction. The cells were ranged back to back in 
a long corridor, and opposite to each cell was a chair on 
which some of the clothes of the inmates were left hang- 
ing. On one of these I detected a shawl that somehow 
looked familiar. I hesitated on the landing, asking the 
matron in charge of the ward to whom it belonged. 

“ To a poor girl who was picked up out of East River 
last night,” she replied. 

“ Out of the East River?” I cried. “Let me see her.” 

No objection was made to my entrance into the ward, 
so I was led up to the door of the cell, and there, reclining 
on a cot, and with her long hair hanging about her, was 
the woman I thought drowned. My coming disturbed 
her. She raised her head, then, recognizing me, she burst 
into tears. 

“Take me home!” she cried, “take me home!” 

And take her home I did. 


XL. 


I HAVE said that each event crowded on the heels 
of each fresh event, as in Carlyle’s history of the closing 
scenes of the French Revolution. Therefore I am com- 
pelled somewhat hurriedly to clear away the stage and to 
leave it free for the denouement^ which will require all the 
space at my disposal. 

Though of course my inferences about Edna and Dr. 
Henry were only confirmed later, they were nevertheless 
correct. 

Further, it seems, that the officer who had arrested the 
doctor was so puzzled by his protests that after placing him 
in custody he had returned to the scene of the arrest, and 
that he had arrived there only just in time to see a woman 
walk right out to the end of the wharf and fling herself 
into the water. Thus was my dream realized. To res- 
cue her had proved a difficult matter, and, supposing that 
she was deranged also, he had brought her to the sta- 
tion house for examination as to her mental condition. 
Whether Dr. Henry had been incarcerated in the same 
building I did not stop to inquire. A happy suggestion 
by Mr. Star was sufficient to liberate Edna. It was this : 
That being engaged to be married to me (a non-compro- 
mising situation), she had been overcome on hearing of 

219 


220 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


my arrest on such a shocking charge, and she had there- 
upon endeavored to end her miseries in a watery grave. 

Under these circumstances, and the promise that I 
would be responsible for her welfare, she was allowed to 
depart, and in two hours afterwards I was seated on the 
deck of a tugboat which Mr. Star engaged for me to con- 
vey her to Rocky Point. 

In fact, I was uncertain whether Rebecca might not 
soon be released on bail, and unless I got Edna away 
from the city, Rebecca’s arrest might avail little. To re- 
move her beyond the influence of that woman was my first 
thought, and for the time being my only one. And yet I 
don’t think that in the whole course of my life I ever en- 
joyed a trip on the water as much as I did this one in the tug. 
Though late in September, it was a still day, insufferably 
hot in town ; but the motion of the boat caused a slight 
breeze of its own, and seemed to dispel the noisome odors 
of the great city we were leaving. The air became fresher 
too, and crisper as we proceeded, and the stretch of wa- 
ter opened out wider and wider like the creation of an ar- 
tist’s dream. Here a rich man’s yacht with languid sail 
rocked upon the tide, and now a coaster waiting for a tug; 
crafts of all descriptions were about, all bathed in the soft 
light; with the shores gradually widening, as I say, but an 
occasional point jutting out quite close to us, and its 
trees running down to the water’s-edge, Narcissus-like, to 
see their wealth of beauty reflected in the waves. 

I remarked a little way back in my history that Edna’s 
health appeared to have in no wise suffered from the men- 
tal strain I should have thought she must have been put to 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


221 


under Rebecca’s manipulations. This was conspicuously 
so now, for as the soft breezes kissed her cheeks her elas- 
ticity of spirits returned till I thought I had never seen 
her so bright and dazzling. Except during that brief 
moment of awakening in the cell, she refused to speak of 
her experiences in New York, and from one or two obser- 
vations that she let drop I am inclined to believe they were 
not very distinct in her memory, and that her mind re- 
verted to the period of our intercourse just before I left 
her so abruptly to return to New York. What I mean is 
that she was leaving the recollection of the city along with 
the city itself behind her, and that the intervening time 
between the period of her arrival there and the present 
was a blank more or less complete. It remained with me 
to avail myself of her forgetfulness as I saw fit. The ob- 
servation to which I particularly allude was a proposal for 
me to take her on the following day that very drive which 
our rupture had interfered with, speaking as if nothing 
had intervened, but a simple lovers’ quarrel. 

On arriving at her home we found that Mr. Dalzelle 
was expected by the evening boat, and after seeing her 
made comfortable, I took up my old quarters at the farm- 
house, much to Mr. Crummels’ delectation. He ap- 
peared genuinely glad to see me once again, though 
deeply curious as to what my ulterior object might be. 
Inasmuch as this was yet obscure in my own mind, I 
failed to enlighten him; but as I sat on the piazza that 
afternoon and talked with him as of yore, everything 
seemed so natural and unchanged that I could hardly ima- 
gine I had been away. I picked up the thread of my pre- 


222 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


vious life exactly where it had broken, and could imagine 
things settling down exactly in their old lines. 

This impression was deepened by a visit later in the 
evening from Mr. Dalzelle himself, who spoke about his 
daughter’s return in the most every-day manner, accept- 
ing our reunion quite as a mattter of course. 

The fact is, I don’t believe Mr. Dalzelle credited one- 
half of what I had told him. He considered me an im- 
petuous, hasty, imaginative personage, apt to go off at half- 
cock. Besides, I think he had a wholesome terror of Re- 
becca, and, like many good-natured men, a natural anti- 
pathy to trouble. Excusing himself on the grounds that 
his daughter was of age, and that he could do nothing to 
control her conduct, he had allowed things to take their 
own course. That he was passionately fond of his 
daughter, however, I have no doubt, and that he was a 
little afraid of her also I am inclined to believe. He 
certainly knew nothing of my arrest, but during this 
very period, as I subsequently learned, he was en- 
gaged in some very important business transactions which 
monopolized most of his time and thoughts, rendering 
him less inclined than he might otherwise have been to in- 
vestigate closely anything else. 


XLI. 


But I must turn to the condition of public affairs which 
yet I have only hinted at, but with which my own fate was 
to be most unexpectedly interwoven. 

It was a time of growing luxury for the wealthy. It 
was a time of destitution for the poor. It was a time of 
despair for the many and of dread for the few. It was 
a time of agitation and of heated discussion and sporadic 
conflicts between employer and employed. Men’s minds 
were a little unstrung. The grim walls of the factory, 
mutatis mutandisy had got to be viewed somewhat as the 
castles of the French noblemen in the latter days of the 
last century, and the speculator in wheat as the Fermier 
General of the same epoch. Even that public benefactor 
and philantropist, the railroad director, was not excepted 
from the general criticism, and his control of the high, 
ways of travel was said by many to be as complete and 
despotic as when the border baron collected tolls upon 
them at the mouth of the blunderbuss and the culverine. 

In the haphazard, don’t-care-a-damn manner of our 
development, it is true that there had been opportuni- 
ties for enormous increase of wealth by the few, and it is 
further true that so much of this had been acquired by 
piratical methods that all wealth, ay, down to the mode- 
rate man’s competency, was beginning to stink in the nos- 
223 


224 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


trils of the man who had nothing. Over this troubled 
horizon the prophet of a new creed had arisen, promising 
relief to the many from their burdens by a single tax. 

In propounding his creed he asked some curious ques- 
tions. 

For instance, where were we coming to with all this vast 
aggregation of wealth ? Whether, too, the rich, with all 
their talk about the sacred rights of property, were as 
thoughtful of the obligations of property, and, while ready 
to ape the manners of an aristocracy, whether they had 
not neglected every public duty, except where money 
could be made out of it ? 

In short, the tenor of his criticisms was that “ 
faire^"' roughly speaking, meant “every man for himself 
and the devil take the hindmost,” which, closely analyzed, 
might mean, again, that the sharp, shrewd business man 
had been given an unfair advantage over the simple man, 
and that while the many toiled the few had reaped. 

To meet these outrageous assertions and cavilings on 
a state of things that had never been so much as ques- 
tioned before, there was talk on the part of the few of a 
strong government, and the grim shadow of the Man on 
Horseback began to steal over the landscape. Neverthe- 
less, the world wagged on much as before, and particu- 
larly in the rural districts, where the new doctrines had 
taken as yet little hold, except for discussion at an oc- 
casional political meeting or debating club. 

Yet here, in the neighborhood of Mr. Dalzelle’s, a phi- 
losof)hical mind might have found food for contemplation. 
Nine farms out of every ten were mortgaged, and in con- 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


225 


sequence the steady deterioration of a class of people I 
can find no better word to define than yeomanry, was con- 
spicuous; people who forty years ago were rich in the 
unincumbered possession of farms of a hundred acres, 
and whose homes nothing that is being built now seems 
exactly to replace. ‘‘Western competition,” the old mil- 
ler had given me as an explanation of this retrogression 
when I had once asked him the cause, and perhaps he was 
right. To me, however, it rather seems due to the tempta- 
tions for financial profit that our spider-like cities gener- 
ally throw as a web about the country that surrounds them. 
They not only draw in to themselves the young men from 
vocations where there is room for all, to professions 
which are over-crowded, but they catch the hard-earned 
gains of the farmer in speculative enterprises, giving 
that restless, nervous intensity to our lives, also, which 
results in making a few rich at the expense of the many 
poor. 

I had stopped for Edna in the buggy at the hour agreed 
to on the previous day, and had touched upon the above 
subjects, political and other, as we drove along. Indeed, 
a feeling of constraint was on both of us, and this con- 
straint evinced itself in the abstract turn our conversation 
took. For though I had picked up the thread of my 
past life exactly where it had been broken off, I had yet 
formulated no plans for the future. 

My only immediate purpose, to repeat, had been to get 
Edna away from the influence of Rebecca, regardless of 
any duties and obligations that act might entail of itself. 
I doubted, too, whether our quarrel preceding our separa- 


226 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


tion had been forgotten as completely as the circum- 
stances succeeding it appeared to have been, and, though 
she avoided any allusion to it, the uncertainty as to 
whether it was still in her mind increased the awkward- 
ness of my situation, and my own discomfiture probably 
reacted on her. 

As we drove along, however, this constraint gradually 
wore off ; and as we turned to go home, and a bend in the 
road disclosed the white steeple of the little village church, 
she looked up with the pensive air that had previously 
been so habitual to her. 

“What peacefulness a spire seen over trees gives to a 
view !” she said. 

“ Yes,” I replied ; “a steeple inspires hope.” 

I don’t know how it was ; I had been sitting next to her 
in close contact all the afternoon, but somehow she 
seemed to press up to me more closely as I spoke, to 
nestle to me, as it were, in repentance for her cruelty of 
the past. In an instant my arm went about her waist, 
and for once she did not resist. 

“ Why will you not let me realize the hope that steeple 
inspires ?” I said, on a wild chance. “ We are near the 
church ; let us stop and have my longings set at rest !” 

At first she actually appeared yielding, and the next 
moment to be held back by her old doubts. Her hesita- 
tion caused me to press my point more earnestly, and by 
the time we had got opposite the parsonage she did yield. 
I hurriedly descended and tied the horse. I was agitated 
myself, her acquiescence took me so completely by sur- 
prise, and yet I must be quick to prevent any change of 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 227 

humor. I knocked at the door of the parsonage, and was 
told that the minister was in the garden. I hurried thither, 
only to discover a hired man pruning some peach trees. 
From him I learned that instead of his master being in the 
garden, however, he had just taken his gig for a visit of 
consolation to a sick parishioner. I got the latter’s ad- 
dress, but on my return to the buggy she had regained 
her composure and absolutely refused to follow the min 
ister on his travels. As for me, too, I also had weakened. 
When it came to the point, could I marry a woman who 
had played the part of Aspasia through the streets of 
New York ? But if I were not ready to marry her, what 
was I here for ? Utterly illogical and absurd as it was for 
me to remain, I could not yet m.ake up my mind to re- 
linquish her, so we drove back in the soft afternoon light, 
through the sleepy fishing village, past the brightly painted 
oyster boats that were just returning from their day’s 
work, past the old historic mill which had ground flour for 
General Washington, over the milldam, and along the 
locust-fringed road — a road whose beauty not even the ad- 
vertisements to use Mandrake Bitters or to “Shake No 
More ” could quite deface ; nor whose tranquility the 
rumors that were becoming frequent of labor troubles and 
of encounters with Pinkerton detectives could quite 
disturb. 


XLII. 


I FOUND my position absolutely absurd and illogical, 
and my dilemma was no little increased by my perplexity 
as to Edna’s conduct (irresponsible as she was for it) 
while in New York. Under these circumstances you will 
appreciate how welcome was the letter I found awaiting 
me on my return from my drive. It was from Mr. Star. 
He informed me that Rebecca was still under arrest and 
had been as yet unable to find securities for her bail ; fur- 
ther, that Lyman, the detective, had not yet returned from 
Chicago, nor could he obtain by telegraphing him any ex- 
planation of his long delay. What came after atoned for 
this last discouraging piece of news, since he assured me 
that he had just seen Dr. Henry, and in a long con- 
versation with him had learned, on his word as a gentle- 
man, that the experiments Edna had been subjected to 
while under the influence of mesmerism were guarded in 
such a way as to leave not the slightest blemish on her 
character. In conclusion the letter said : 

They were merely tentative and made in the interest 
of science, of which the doctor is an enthusiastic dis- 
ciple.” 

“ I will, however, keep you informed of what goes on 
here, but as I have to appear in court in less than fifteen 

228 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


229 


minutes, I must ask your permission to close somewhat 
abruptly. 

‘^Believe me, 

“ Always very truly yours, 

“Reginald P. Star.” 

The letter relieved my mind of my greatest perplexity 
—a perplexity that I could hardly formulate in language. 
Cleared of this, my course was distinct and clean cut. I 
would try once more to make Edna have her marriage 
annulled, and then I would be free to wed her. I walked 
out on the piazza to think over the good tidings, and here 
founii Mr. Crummels anxiously pacing up and down. He 
was in » condition that for him was one of unusual mental 
disturbauce. 

“ I gUsiss there’ll be lively times to-night over to the 
village,” he observed. “ You see the boys is goin' to dis- 
cuss these yere doctrines of Henry George in the Debatin’ 
Club. What do yer say to be one of the party? I’m 
goin’ over myself, and you’ve been away so long I’d like 
your company.” 

“Mr. Crummels,” I returned, “ I’ve had enough ex- 
citements lately of a personal character without wishing 
to incur any of a political sort. I think, therefore, I shall 
forego the temptation this time.” 

Mr. Crummels’ face fell. “ It’s about the only sport, 
barrin’ a church picnic or a funeral, the boys has ’round 
here, and they makes the most of it, you bet. Won’t yer 
change that opinion of yours ’round now for one to go ?” 

“Mr. Crummels, my resolution is unalterable; but go 
yourself, and may the advocates of the pernicious doc- 


230 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


trines be brought through your arguments to see the un- 
righteousness of their cause. God be with you!” 

“ Say,” observed Mr. Crummels, stopping short, ‘^did 
yer ever know ole Squire Hopkins ?” 

I expressed my regrets for the pleasure denied me. 

“ Wall, whenever I hear the Scriptures quoted I thinks 
of ole Squire Hopkins. He was always spoutin’ it his- 
self, and, if you’ll excuse my saying so, he was yet the dog- 
gondest screw these yere parts has ever produced. His 
fingers itched for every man’s dollars and seemed coated 
with glue to which they all stuck. Whenever he put out 
a copper it was always tied with a bit of elastic that 
snapped it back with interest, and before lettin’ it go he 
squeezed it so tight as to leave the stamp of the eagle im- 
pressed in his palm. Every farm hereabouts gradually 
got to have a mortgage on it, and every mortgage some- 
how got to stand in Squire Hopkins’ name. What he 
couldn’t get by fair means he got by foul, and every case 
as was brought in court always found the jury fixed in his 
interest. After skinning the folks out of all they had, 
after rakin’ the whole county, as it was, with a fine-tooth 
comb for dollars. Squire Hopkins died. What do yer 
think the openin’ words of his willwas ? ‘ I die in peace 

with God and forgive all my neighbors.’ ” 

I expressed my deep sense of approval of this beautiful 
sentiment. 

“ Now, if it hadn’t been for the Squire I’d ha’ been a 
richer man. He first lent the money on this yere farm^ 
an’ then sold it to Mr. Dalzelle. ’Tain’t that I’m exactly 
a poor man, but then I ain’t never got much cash handy.” 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


231 


I had a vague suspicion of what was coming. 

“ And I was thinkin’,’’ continued Mr. Crummels, work- 
ing around in the usual circuitous, though skillful, way to 
his point, “that if you'd just loan me five dollars to put 
on top of the bill you gave me the last time you was here 
for clearin’ out the cellar, I’d kind of seem more respect- 
able if I was called upon at the meetin’ for drinks.” 

Mr. Crummels had fairly earned the money, so, without 
more ado, I presented him with a five dollar bill. 

“I’ll just take it off the account for yer board,” he 
said; “that’s the easiest way to fix it. Good-by,” he 
continued, and then he stopped again. “By the way,” 
he hesitated, “ talking about Squire Hopkins sot me 
thinkin’. Don’t yer suppose it might be the doin’s of jist 
such folks as him as has started all this yere talk about 
the land question ? I don’t mean only ’round here, but 
through the county generally, for he was a grabber from 
Grabbersville, and that’s a place as ain’t cleaned out of 
inhabitants yet.” 

Mr. Crummels’ remarks opened up an extensive mine of 
thought, and while I was pondering on what he said he 
started in the direction of the village. 

I have moralized on the consequences that were to ensue, 
in due course of time, because of the first five dollar bill I 
had given him before my departure from New York; the 
consequences flowing from my second gift — or let me call 
it loan — while less direct, will, at all events, be seen to be 
momentous. 

Hearing the sound of chopping in the neighborhood of 
the stable, I walked over in that direction, to find old Abe 


232 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


employed in splitting up some kindling wood. On cas- 
ually mentioning to him that his master had gone to the 
village for the purpose of attending a meeting of the de- 
bating society, I was surprised to notice a broad smile 
parting his head from ear to ear as he looked up. 

“ Oh! he’s gone to the debatin’ sassiety, has he ? Well, 
I guess he won’t be home early.” 

Then he resumed his chopping. It has fallen in the 
line of my experience to see wood chopped before now, 
but I must admit I never saw any one handle the axe 
with quite the dexterity old Abe did. In his hands it 
appeared veritably alive, and a trick he had of passing 
it over his head with a double flourish when any one 
was looking at him, raised the performance into the 
realms of high art. At last he stopped abruptly. “ He’s 
gone to the debatin’ sassiety, has he ?” he repeated, 
and then, just as I thought his oracular utterances 
were to cease, “ Well, I guess,” he added, “ it won’t be de 
fust time.” 

Finding he would give no further particulars, I 
wandered back to the house. Some deep mystery 
seemed connected with these meetings other than ap- 
peared on their face. When I alluded to the subject 
to Mrs. Crummels, a suggestive silence fell over her, 
and she continued to set the table for my supper 
with a nervous haste equally inexplicable. Next I 
tried her daughters; but here again I was met with abso- 
lute failure, for on my mentioning the topic to them one 
began to giggle and the other burst into tears. Could Mr. 
Crummels be a revolutionist in disguise? I wondered. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


233 


Altogether it was a most extraordinary state of affairs, 
and, really feeling anxious about the matter,'! walked 
down the lane towards the water, hoping to find a solution 
mirrored in its crystal depths. Now, the lane, as I have 
before intimated, was lined with cedars and led down to 
the beach, which was some five hundred yards away. On 
each side of the lane the fields were cleared so that the 
eye had an unobstructed view right and left. Except from 
the piazza, however, the beach was concealed by a chain 
of low-lying sand hills fringed with alderberry and ai- 
lantus bushes, and until one had arrived at the head of the 
lane, and was beyond the trees and shrubbery immedi- 
ately surrounding the house, only a partial glimpse could 
naturally be had of either fields or water. I had just 
reached the head of the lane, and was walking down it, 
when I detected in the field to the right, and a little more 
than half way to the beach, an object which, taking 
everything into consideration, was the very last object any 
one would naturally have expected to find standing here 
in an open field some seven miles distant from the near- 
est railroad station, and considerably off the line of travel 
for tramps. The object I allude to was an Italian organ 
grinder. His organ was resting on its wooden leg, so to 
speak ; he was perfectly motionless and seemed to be 
observing the house. Dressed in dark clothes, with his 
swarthy face making a black spot on the landscape, he 
appeared to have been transported hither for the special 
purpose of casting a shadow over the fair scene. I walked 
down towards him to learn his business, and when he de- 
tected me he moved away rapidly, and, slipping into the 


«34 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


bushes that fringed the back of the beach, disappeared. 
Not to be so easily given the slip, I climbed over the fence 
that separated the lane from the field, and proceeded to 
the spot where he had entered the bushes. Here I saw 
the marks of footsteps in the sandy soil, but though I 
searched the ground thoroughly he was not to be found. I 
even walked out on the beach, where there was an unob- 
structed view up and down for considerably over a mile. 
There was not a soul in sight. The underbrush barely 
reached to my shoulder, and how he had managed with 
such scant cover to get away with his instrument, much 
less with himself, was a puzzle. After half an hour’s 
fruitless endeavor to discover him I returned to the house 
for a supper that had grown cold by waiting. 


XLIII 


Supper over, I consumed a brief half-hour with the pa- 
pers, and then walked across to Mr. Dalzelle’s, where I 
have forgotten to state that I had promised to meet Edna. 
I found her on the little piazza of the summer-house on the 
edge of the beach, with a rustic table holding coffee and 
liqueurs. 

It was a beautiful night. The moon, like a great ball of 
subdued fire, was just rising from her liquid bed, strewing, 
the waves right up to our very feet as with of ducats of 
reddened gold. Here and there, just off the shore, the 
lanterns of eel-spearers glided mysteriously along, the 
oars in the rowlocks of their boats chiming in with, 
rather than disturbing, the soft lapping of the wavelets on 
the beach. Nevertheless, poetic as was the scene, senti- 
mental as was the hour, I could not quite shake off a 
slightly disagreeable impression left on my mind by the 
organ grinder. It chilled the satisfaction Mr. Star’s letter 
had given me, and carried back my thoughts to the city 
and my sinister experiences there. Perhaps because of 
this, I lost my spirit for addressing Edna on the subject I 
had most at heart, and turned the conversation on my 
fruitless search instead of my fruitless courtship. 

“ I don’t know that I am more heartless than the ave- 
235 


236 


the romance of an alter ego. 


rage of humanity,” I continued, ‘‘but I confess I bear 
a grudge against these modern troubadours.” 

“And so do I,” she exclaimed quickly. “ From my very 
earliest childhood they have haunted me. Never did my 
poor mother send me supperless to bed, never did I have 
one of those hopeless attacks of depression common to all 
children, that an organ-grinder did not come, place him- 
self beneath my window, grinding out the ‘Miserere,’ 
or some equally melancholy old Italian opera, to make my 
cup of misery complete.” She dropped her chin on her 
hand and looked pensively over the waters. 

“ It’s rather odd, though, that you could not find him,” 
she resumed at last, recurring to the itinerant musician; 
“ he was here this afternoon, and they told me over at 
the farm that he had been about there all the morn- 
ing.” 

“Well, I didn’t see him,” I returned, and I had 
nerved myself up to allude to a more tender topic when 
the debating society of Mr. Crummels inconsiderately 
came in my head, and I went on to speak of it, asking why 
there was so much mystery connected with his attendance, 
and wherein these differed from other meetings of a like 
character. 

This time Edna laughed herself. 

“ Well, you’ll probably discover before long. Poor Mr. 
Crummels! he’s a pattern of all the virtues except industry 
for about six consecutive weeks; then he makes ample 
amends. Remember, however, that the life of a man of 
his kind is extremely monotonous, and we who have so 
many resources should be the last to throw stones.” 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


237 


She had dropped her chin again into her fair white 
hand, and her eyes were directed over the water with the 
same wistful expression I had noticed before that evening. 
The light of the moon was falling full upon her face, and 
I, on my part, sat silently contemplating her as she sat 
there, thinking over my adventure with her this very after- 
noon, and wondering what would have been the result 
had she taken me at my word. 

Suddenly the light left her and she became submerged 
in darkness. The transition was so abrupt that I started, 
and, casting my glance seaward for an explanation, no- 
ticed that a passing sail had intercepted the rays of the 
queen of the night. The vessel was near in shore, and in 
endeavoring to come about had evidently missed stays. 
The voices of the crew were born distinctly, to our ears over 
the water, and the noises of the ropes working through 
the blocks. Owing to the slightness of the breeze, she 
was hardly sailing, but she managed to get about some- 
how, and drifted slowly on her course. 

‘^Do you know, I have often thought a vessel oecalmed 
was like a person in a trance,” Edna observed at last 
“with all the powers of movement petrified for want of the 
breath of life to waken her.” 

“ The analogy is rather far fetched,” I replied, “though 
I suppose it has certain points of resemblance. But why 
do you dwell on such gloomy topics ?” 

“ Well, then, how selfish human nature is, if you like 
that better !” she continued; •• not naturally cruei, per- 
haps, but so self-engrossed. Take that vessel again, for 
instance; how little we think of her, whence she comes 


238 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


or whither she goes, wrapped up as we are in the halo that 
surrounds the narrow personality of each of us.” 

Here was my chance ; sentiment engendered sentiment 
in return, and there is no policy that is so well calcu- 
lated to put you right with a woman as to put her in the 
wrong. 

“Yes,” I observed, ‘‘what you say is true. Some of 
us are so self-engrossed that it does amount to cruelty.” 
I laid particular stress upon the last word. “ Nothing 
short of cruelty,” I went on, “and I have arrived at the 
conclusion that the cruelty of woman is more unreflecting 
than that of man. Now see here, Edna,” I continued, 
taking her hand, “don’t you think you’re treating me 
very cruelly ?” 

“ How so?” she asked, with feigned surprise. 

“Well, at least you’re drifting out of my life just as 
that schooner has done.” 

“ What would you have ?” 

“ I would have your confidence; I would have you ap- 
ply for a divorce and break off this marriage, so that you 
will have no excuse to refuse me what I asked this after- 
noon.’’ 

I had risen and was standing over her. My arms, or 
at least one of them was raised to enforce my remarks. 
Without any visible rhyme or reason, she suddenly shrank 
away from me. 

“Put your hands down!” she cried, with an accent I 
had never heard her employ before. “Put them down, 
or I leave you immediately and go into the house!” 

She had risen, also ; the light of the moon was shining 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 239 

upon her face, and she looked at me so wildly that she 
quite terrified me. I dropped my arms, and even sank 
my hands into my pockets. My action seemed to have 
a quieting effect, and she gradually regained her com- 
posure. 

“Sit down again,” she observed at last, “and don’t 
mind what I have just said. There, there, don’t ask me for 
any explanation ; I am excitable, that is all. It terrifies 
me when some people raise their arms, perhaps because 1 
fear they are going to strike me. Smoke a fresh cigar; 
see, I will light it for you.” And she actually put one 
between her lips and lighted it herself. There was too 
plainly an effort to distract my thoughts from her ex- 
traordinary terror — an effort that resulted in conduct 
quite foreign to her nature. 

Her terror, however, though accentuated, was on a line 
with conduct I had noticed in her at times before. In 
spite of her desire to appear at ease and her request for 
me to stay, I could not help noticing that she was anxious 
for my departure; and as, I am frank to confess, I was no 
little disturbed myself, I brought the interview to a close. 
It was not till I arrived home that I guessed the solution 
of her behavior. And as I look back now, my only ex- 
cuse for not having hit upon it while I was with her is the 
hopeless confusion my mind was reduced to by so many 
conflicting perplexities. Indeed, I cannot help wonder- 
ing how it was I had any mind left; and as if I had not 
had enough excitement during the evening, I was aroused 
towards morning, by the most awful din at the front 
door it has ever been my misfortune to hear. In the 


240 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


confusion of my sudden awakening I seized my pistol 
and rushed down-stairs. There was a hurried scampering 
before me, as I descended into the hail, of females in 
demi-toilet, and their presence rather reassured me on 
the subject of marauders. The knocker was still going 
like mad, however ; and concluding that burglars would 
hardly announce their coming in so conventional a man- 
ner, I made bold to open the door. Here I encountered 
Mr. Crummels, in a state, I regret to say, of extreme in- 
toxication, and with him Squire Smith, whom I had met 
once at Mr. Dalzelle’s. He was acting as his Fidus 
Achates and was endeavoring to get him into the house 
quietly. 

As I was a little uncertain regarding my duties in the 
matter, I was extremely relieved to see Mrs. Crummels 
descending the stairs again, only this time in an India 
shawl and a highly indignant frame of mind. Under the 
circumstances, I concluded that my services could be dis- 
pensed with, so I discreetly retired to my room. Arrived 
there, I must confess a more successful piece of strategy 
than this good woman displayed in the management of 
her husband I never witnessed (through the crack of any 
door). Her very appearance seemed to have a sobering 
effect, and instead of telling him to come into the house, 
which he had just been refusing to do for the squire, she 
insisted upon the squire carrying him back to the village 
in his buggy. Whereupon Mr. Crummels became deeply 
repentant, and pleaded to be allowed to enter. On her 
reply that if he was permitted to enter he would have to 
sleep on a mat in the hall, Mr. Crummels insisted upon 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


241 


coming up-stairs; and finally, when his spouse, rising to a 
climax of diplomacy, stated that if he was allowed to come 
up-stairs he would be permitted under no circumstances 
to enter her sanctuary, that gentleman, becoming obstinate 
again, insisted on doing so, and was finally disposed of 
presumably between the sheets of his wife’s chaste couch. 

Next morning Mr. Crummels failed to present himself. 
I was late in making my own appearance, and it was con- 
siderably past ten o’clock before my breakfast was served. 


XLIV. 


There are certain occasions when the mind, I believe, 
instinctively prepares itself for some great crisis, and 
when the very atmosphere assists in accentuating our 
condition of expectancy. This forenoon was one of them. 

I think that the reader will agree with me that the next 
few days of my life equal in dramatic incident anything 
that he has met with in the domain of light literature, and 
that all that I had gone through was a feeble index to 
what is coming. Something told me that this climax, 
though much delayed, was drawing on. Something told 
me that I had been brought back here to this peaceful re- 
treat for some catastrophe that could not have been ac- 
complished in the city, and that, in short, all my comings, 
goings, and dilemmas were but predestined and pre- 
arranged steps leading up to the grand acme of my for- 
tunes. The very quiet that reigned over all things told me; 
the stillness and the repose. Never shall I forget the 
absolute deadness of that morning as I sat at my open 
window and looked out. The very buzzing of the flies 
intensified it, the humming of the bees too; all nature 
seemed to hesitate, to stop, and to stand still. And yet, 
as I sat there, I resolved that I would bring my affairs 
with Edna to an issue this very day. I would not have it on 
my conscience that I had not done all that I could to sim- 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


243 


plify my situation with her. Unless she would definitely 
promise to take immediate steps to annul her marriage, I 
would bid her good-by forever. Any other course now 
than this was weakness, and I would not submit to remain- 
ing longer in the dubious position I occupied. I had got 
up with the intention of putting my plan into immediate 
execution, I had even reached the door of my apartment 
and my hand was on the handle, when the deep, impressive 
silence was broken by the jingle of music accompanied by 
the deep baying of the faithful old watch-dog, Tobey. I 
started and looked about me, and there, just outside, was 
an organ-grinder. He was ducking and bowing at me 
smiling and grimacing, and I recognized him immediately 
as the subject of my fruitless search the previous evening. 
There was something sinister about his reappearance, and 
I hastened out and demanded an explanation of his extra- 
ordinary behavior of yesterday. To all my questions, how- 
ever, he merely ducked and smiled, muttering disjointed 
remarks in a language with which I was unfamiliar. Find- 
ing that he either would not or could not understand me, 
I walked over to the kennel of old Tobey, whose every 
hair was standing on end, and made a motion to unchain 
him. My gesture was better interpreted than my words. 
With a scowl I shall remember to my dying day, the 
unwelcome visitor hoisted his instrument on his back and 
started up the lane. On gaining the gate he paused and, 
turning, called down an imprecation on my head. 

I regretted my act as soon as committed. It was un* 
wise, to say the least, and was almost cowardly. Nevef 
theless I had no inclination to call him back. 


244 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


Not until two o’clock could I find Edna — on the beach 
overseeing the launching of her wherry. Despite the 
sultriness of the day, she informed me she was going for 
a row. As this would offer me as good an opportunity as 
any other to resume my interrupted conversation of the 
past evening, I assisted the gardener to get the boat into 
the water; for, the tide being somewhat low, it was neces- 
sary to traverse a long stretch of sand. I remembered 
afterwards our difficulty in doing this, and I also remem- 
bered at the time that the day was Friday, exactly six weeks 
after the night of the murder at Coney Island. Though 
she offered no opposition to my coming, I suspect she 
read the thoughts that were in my mind. The tide was 
yet running out, and I took up the oars and rowed slowly 
with it. For some twenty minutes I pulled, and then I 
took in the oars and laid them deliberately across my 
knees. 

“ Edna,” I said very gravely, “ I want to ask you 
something.” 

Her hand was softly playing in the water, and she 
looked up in my face. 

“ And I want to ask you something,” she interposed 
quickly. “ Don’t you congratulate yourself that I did 
not accede to your request yesterday ?” 

Her question threw me off my line of attack. 

“Yes,” she continued, “your sober second thought 
causes you to rejoice that you are still free.” 

“ But I am not free, for the affection that binds me to 
you is in no wise weakened because it has not yet been 
sanctioned by the church. I — ” 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


245 


“ How odd it is!” she interrupted me again to exclaim. 
“ When I was so anxious to consider you my husband 
you strenuously objected, and now, while you appear 
anxious, I hold back.” 

“ But the circumstances have entirely altered^” I ob- 
served, ‘‘ and I want to speak to you about the determina- 
tion I have come to on this very subject. I want you to 
promise me that you will immediately begin proceedings 
to have your marriage annulled.” 

I saw that she was becoming agitated as usual when I 
touched upon that topic. I knew it, though her face 
was turned away from me, by a perceptible tremor pass- 
ing over her, and by the way the bunch of flowers rose 
and fell on her bosom. Her right hand was still playing 
with the water, with the sleeve well rolled up, showing her 
ivory-white arm, while her left hand was raised to her 
breast to calm its palpitations. In spite of my determin- 
ation, I was afraid to continue the subject; something 
warned me that I had better not, so, clenching my teeth, 
I began again to row slowly further out into the Sound, 
cursing myself for my weakness and wondering when and 
how it was all to end. She was grateful for my forbear- 
ance, as her next remark proved. 

I want to speak to you about something quite differ- 
ent,” she said; “and if I have not alluded to the subject 
before, you must not think it is because it has been absent 
from my thoughts. I wish to ask you if you have not 
yet received any clue as to the mysterious attempts upon 
your life ?” 

I was surprised, for I had always purposely avoided 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


.46 


the. subject, and had no means of supposing that she had 
not accepted the version the newspapers had given. 

“ Do you know,” she continued, “ I can’t help thinking 
that your entanglement with me is in some way respon- 
sible for your danger — or should I say your resemblance 
to my husband ?” 

The mention of her husband caused her to wince, but 
she continued without other sign of excitement: 

“ I sometimes think that he might have been guilty of 
fjomething, or have done something that has drawn down 
upon your head a vengeance intended for him. Have 
you taken any precautions for your safety ?” 

“ I always go armed,” I answered. “ I have a trusty 
friend here that will protect me.” And I motioned to my 
hip pocket. “ Ever since my room was entered I carry 
it wherever I go.” 

“ But why don’t you get a detective to follow you 
wherever you go ? If I were you I would ; now promise 
me that you will.” 

“Not to follow me quite wherever I go,” I said mean- 
ingly. “There are occasions when he might be de 
tropr 

“ But if you knew how anxious I am, the bare idea 
of my being in any manner instrumental in causing you 
injury !” 

“ But I don’t see how you can be; and besides, judging 
from my experience of the ‘ Force,’ their services are not 
of any very great utility. They have proved themselves 
totally incapable in my case, though I have placed every- 
thing in their hands.” 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 247 

The matter evidently pained her more than she cared 
to avow, so I bent to the oars again, while she leant way 
back in the stern and looked at me with her great, dark 
hazel eyes. 

“ Do you know you are very odd ?” she said at last. 

“ Odd ?" I ejaculated, as I stopped rowing. 

Yes, very odd ; how did you ever become so ?” 

** I suppose I was born so,” I replied for the want of a 
better excuse. 

‘‘ Sometimes I am almost persuaded that you are my 
husband after all. I mean that while I know that you are 
not, you make use of an expression or a word that almost 
convinces me that you and he are one.” 

^ Consider me, then, in that light,” I answered. “Why 
do you keep me dangling like a poor fish on a hook, let- 
ting me go a little and then suddenly pulling me back ? 
I never know what to expect with you, for at one moment 
your kindness lifts me up into heaven, and then your 
cruelty casts me back to — ” (Earth I was going to say, 
but used a stronger expression beginning with an H). 

I had risen from my seat in the boat and had come over 
towards her. I knew my face looked appealing into her 
eyes as I took her unresisting hand. “ Why won’t you 
accept me either in the light of your husband or accept 
my advice ?” 

“ What is your advice ? Tell it to me again.” 

‘‘Either to get a divorce, or to have this marriage 
annulled.” 

“Can’t you see — can’t you see ?” she cried. “Are 
you so blind ?” 


248 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

“I can’t see any reason if you care for me.” 

“ Then it is because I am uncertain whether I do caie 
for you; whether the feeling I have for you is not the love 
I bear for him ; whether I can give you more than a re- 
flected affection. Sometimes I think I care for you, for 
yourself alone, and then again that it is because of your 
resemblance. Oh ! I don’t know what to do — what I 
ought to do !” And her long dammed-back emotions burst 
forth in a flood of hysterical tears. So great was their 
violence that I became uneasy. We were fully two miles 
now from the shore. I pressed nearer her, trying to con- 
sole her, when suddenly I recollected her behavior of last 
evening and the construction I had placed upon it. She 
had evidently feared I could mesmerize her, and her fear 
that I might inspired the belief that I could. Once 
before I knew Rebecca Seaton had put her under the influ- 
ence to relieve a condition that could not have been much 
more severe than her present, and did not the occasion 
warrant my attempting to do so now ? 

I looked at her fixedly in the eyes and made, as well as 
I could, the passes before her face I had often seen Re- 
becca make. She resisted ; but gradually her opposition 
ceased. The paroxysms of her hysteria become less vehe- 
ment. A dazed, vacant look stole over her face. Then, as 
I continued, the eyes began to close, and she finally fell 
away into unconsciousness. 

My first feeling was one of relief ; my next of acute 
alarm. I had merely wished to soothe her — to tran- 
quilize her. Here she was lifeless on my hands. I tried 
to waken her, but could not. I splashed water in her 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


249 


face, but she would not come to. I seized the oars, and 
began to row desperately for the shore, with my eyes 
fastened on her. There she lay, with a flush of beauty 
such as I had never seen before on her face, with the color 
still in her cheeks and her rich, red lips slightly parted. 
Her hat had fallen and its satin strings were clutched in 
her hand. At one moment I thought she had actually 
stopped breathing, and I came and put my face close to 
her lips. Thank God ! I detected a slight respiration. 
But it excited me. The touch of her hair intoxicated 
me ; the perfume of her breath maddened me. I looked 
out guiltily, fearfully, over the waters. The fishing boats 
anchored off so far idly rocked upon the tide, and all 
Nature seemed to whisper that we were alone. This sense 
of absolute power over her added to my terror; it afforded 
me as much alarm as her actual condition. I picked up 
the oars again and rowed with all my might; then, as I 
rowed, the reverse passes Rebecca Seaton had made to 
awaken her flashed back to my memory, and I came over 
towards her and repeated , as well as I could remember, the 
same. Slowly but surely she responded to these also, and 
at last I brought her back to life. 

But others possessed the same power over her that I 
did. I must prevent her helplessness from being preyed 
on any longer by establishing my right to guard her. A 
resolution, sprung from my passion and my excitement, 
seized me. Through my troubled mind, the phases of 
my extraordinary situation thrust themselves one after 
another. The courts of the land had pronounced us one; 
was I not justified in confirming this verdict ? They held 


250 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


me to the responsibilities of a husband; should I not 
equally enjoy the rights ? Suppose she were even willing 
to apply for a divorce, he might return before it would be 
granted. What then? His absence ought to bar his 
claims without a divorce. Ninety-nine chances out of a 
hundred he was dead ; and even if he were not, let him 
who could get her from me. 

“ Stay just where you are," I said, as I turned the bow 
of the boat in a different direction. 

She looked at me inquiringly in a dazed, half-sleepy 
way as I headed for the village, which was really closer 
than her father’s residence. 

At the end of some half an hour we reached the village 
wharf, and, assisting my companion ashore, I made the 
boat fast. 

“ Where are you taking me ?” she inquired. 

“I am taking you to the minister’s,” I said curtly. 
“ You are to be my bride.” 

“The responsibility, then, be on your own head,” she 
murmured in the same listless way. 

“ I accept it,” I answered. 


XLV. 


Now, while I recognize in mesmerism a yet unmanage- 
able force in nature, I consider it merely physical and pos- 
sessed by a limited number of people over a certain other 
limited few. That it is often combined with sham and 
deceit is no proof of its inefficacy, but whether it is des- 
tined to become of great practical value to the world is 
another matter. At least Dr. Henry once told me that in 
the French navy, where surgeons are obliged to study it as 
one of the branches of their profession, the experience is 
that not one man in ten can develop sufficient power to 
exercise it, and even a smaller percentage of patients are 
able to be subordinated to it sufficiently to permit of 
being operated on. 

Nevertheless, in spite of the premonitions I had re- 
ceived the foregoing evening in the summer house, it came 
upon me like a revelation that I was one of the few that 
possessed this extraordinary power — I, the most prosaic 
of men. The discovery explained much that had been 
incomprehensible to me in Edna’s previous behavior, and 
particularly that fear of my touch, which I had so 
frequently observed. She had long read the power that 
unsuspected by myself, lay dormant in me, and she had 
evidently dreaded my discovering it as much as I dreaded 
it after it was revealed to me. One word more on a 
251 


252 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


subject that Dr. Henry had touched upon. It is this 
that the habit of being mesmerized grows on one like 
any other habit, till it becomes as strongly developed 
a craving as that for opium or alcohol, the patient be- 
coming, however, instead of hardened to its use, more 
sensitive to its influence by each repetition. In this way 
I can alone account for the secret struggle I had fre- 
quently noticed in Edna — a struggle by her physical 
nature for something that her moral nature both resented 
and feared. Though she appreciated, before we reached 
the church, what she was going to be called upon to do, 
her will power was yet benumbed, and I have no doubt 
now that her acquiescence was merely because in my 
inexperience I had not completely de-mesmerized her; she 
offered no opposition, indeed, to my will, but she trembled 
violently when I placed upon her finger the ring the min- 
ister supplied me with. 

“ The responsibility be on your own head,” she re- 
peated again with the same listless air, after the informal 
ceremony was over; then I kissed her, and she nestled up 
to me like a frightened bird as we slowly walked back to 
the boat 


XLVI. 


- HAD done what I deemed right, but I had acted on the 
spur of an all-blinding passion. Scarcely had I taken 
the step before I began to realize the madness of my con- 
duct and the wild responsibilities that I had assumed. 
That the minister had not refused to perform the sacred 
rite struck me now as extraordinary, but very likely 
he shared in common with the village the belief that I was 
veritably the man who had married her under the name 
of George Fitzamble, and had called upon him merely 
to make good any lack of formality in my previous mar- 
riage. On arriving home my wife pleaded that no change 
should be made for the present in her mode of life, and I 
left her to communicate the tidings to her father in the 
manner she deemed wisest. 

When I reached my own quarters I learned from the 
parlor maid that Mr. Crummels had availed himself of a 
moment when the eye of his faithful spouse was removed 
from him to slip back to the village again, and that the 
old colored man had just been directed to go in search of 
the delinquent. Such was the condition of affairs at the 
cottage, and I had hardly been home a quarter of an hour 
when I saw the sable emissary start off. Indeed, I appre- 
ciated now the reasons why debating societies were a pain- 
ful subject in that household, and I inferred that atten- 
253 


254 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


dance at them was an idiomatic form of expression used 
by Mr. Crummels to define a carouse. Infrequent as were 
these lapses from virtuous paths, however, they made am- 
ple amends by their severity and long-extended duration 
when they did occur ; yet, smile as I might, the anxiety 
and embarrassment, not to say grief, of the household 
added to the weight that was upon me. 

That very phrase of Edna’s, The responsibility of 
your act be, then, on your own head,” recurred and re- 
curred again to my memory. 

After dinner I had intended going over to her father, 
but before I had finished my meal his servant brought a 
note from Edna to say that he had been detained in the 
city over-night and that she had resolved, as for herself, to 
retire early. Ah God ! Could I have foreseen my next 
meeting with her and what was to transpire during the in- 
terval ! Her very refusal to see me threw me back on my 
own thoughts, and my nervous irritability and anticipation 
of coming evil which I had experienced this morning were 
redoubled now. I got hold of a novel and tried to read. 
AVhy in God’s name are all our modern romances conceived 
on such hackneyed lines ? Is it owing to the copyright 
laws ? The heroine, the daughter of rich but vulgar pa- 
rents, marries an English earl ; the scene, all but the first 
chapter — very often that — laid in England, of whose society 
the author is as ignorant as a Kalmuck. What arrant 
snobs we are who have to go to the English peerage for 
our characters and to foreign lands for the scenes of our 
tales, when here within eighteen miles of New York such 
adventures as are about to happen to me could be utilized 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


255 


by the romancer ! Let us create a peerage, if only to keep 
our beauties, both real and fictitious, at home. I picked 
up a second book ; it contained the rhapsodies of a widow 
over a two-year-old cigar stump belonging to a defunct hus- 
band. This was a realistic novel. I threw it aside and 
took up a third. The last was actually loathsome. I 
don’t set up to be a moralist, but when a young lady suf- 
fers herself to be ravished by a former lover, and then, 
because her husband kills him, allows her better half to 
be killed in turn before her eyes without changing a mus- 
cle of her face — killed, though a word from her would save 
his life — well then, I say, it is about time to cry halt. Yes, 
the only approach to originality in the modern novel is 
indecency, which takes the place of talent. Then I took 
up a paper. There was the usual assortment of horrors. 
“ Pretty Polly Poggins Found in the School-House with 
her Tongue Cut Out,” is the first pleasing paragraph. 
“ Slays his Son with a Six-Shooter,” is the next. ‘ * Eloped 
with a Bartender,” is another. “Fires the Hospital” 
is the next ; winding up with “ Danny Daniels to Dangle 
To-day ” — all set off with the same wealth of alliteration 
and of startling type I had so often seen employed in my 
own case. Are we a nation of bloodthirsty ruffians ? I 
asked myself, or is it only that we thirst for these blood- 
thirsty details ? I have often heard it said that crime is 
a disease, therefore contagious; do we not encourage it 
and disseminate it by the wide publicity we give it ? 

Everything I touched, books or papers, instead of tend- 
ing to cheerful thoughts, on the contrary increased the 
doleful frame of mind I was in. Nevertheless, one 


256 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

paper I had glanced over gave me an explanation of Mr. 
Dalzelle’s unexpected departure to the city. It was the 
Evening Cyclone^ and I learned that the strikers in the 
bobtail street-car road, of which he was a director, had 
at last resorted to violence. They had thrown a car 
across the track and were endeavoring to prevent the 
police clearing the way. Not only so, but the strikers 
in a large sugar refinery were held by some to be respon- 
sible for burning that building, and the long-threatened 
labor troubles seemed about to culminate, as they had 
done a few years before at Pittsburgh, in blood and flame. 
A circumstance that did not tend to relieve my anxiety oc- 
curred about half-past ten o’clock namely, the old watch 
dog, who was usually tied at night to one of the posts of 
the piazza, poor old Tobey, began making an awful ado, 
and, when w'e got to him, expired in our arms with evi- 
dences of great internal agony. My thoughts thereupon 
reverted to the organ-grinder at whom the poor dog had 
barked this very morning; while its death increased the 
anxiety of Mrs. Crummels, too, and the other females of 
the family, for her husband had not yet returned, nor even 
had old Abe, who had gone in quest of him. It was 
past eleven before I retired to my room, and, finding sleep 
impossible, I sat down near the window and looked out 
into the darkness. The wind was sighing through the 
trees, and as I thought of the dog’s death I got out my 
pistol and carefully reloaded it. After that I lay down 
on the bed and waited, listening to the clock as it ticked 
away time. It was just striking twelve when I heard car- 
riage wheels grinding on the gravel. Naturally imagin- 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


255 


ing it to be old Abe bringing back Mr. Crummels in the 
buggy, I gave a sigh of relief and prepared to go to sleep. 
Mrs. Crummels evidently was of the same opinion. I 
heard her descend the stairs in her slippered feet; I heard 
her unbar and unlock the door; then there was a pause, 
succeeded by a smothered conversation which I inferred 
to be with her spouse. Again I distinguished the wheels 
crunching the gravel as the vehicle drove away. I was 
turning over with an increased sense of satisfaction that 
Mr. Crummels had at last got back, and the horse was 
being driven over to the stable, when I heard footsteps 
approaching my door, after that a knock. I got up hur- 
riedly, but before I could open it Mrs. Crummels pushed 
an envelope under the sill. It was a telegram. I broke 
it open hastily, and read these words : 

“ Lyman just returned from Chicago bringing informa- 
tion that may solve mystery. Call upon me early to- 
morrow, but in the meanwhile be on your guard, as you 
are in imminent danger from those who know no mercy. 

“ Reginald P. Star.” 

“They’ve just sent it from the depot,” Mrs. Crummels 
said. “ It was received at the office early in the evening, 
but they could get no one to bring it over.” 

“ Then call the person back who brought it.” 

“ It’s too late, sir ; he is by this time far out of 
reach.” 

I requested Mrs. Crummels to wait for a moment, until 
I could decide whether to tell her or not the substance of 
the telegram. If I told her it might unduly alarm her, and 
yet she, as well as the entire household, shared any peril that 


-S8 


THE ROMANCE OT AN ALTER EGO. 


riiight threaten me. Certainly no attempt was likely to be 
made upon me without superior force to back it up, and, 
under these circumstances, it might be advisable either to 
get the family out of the house altogether or to secure 
assistance from Mr. Dalzelle. Mr. Dalzelle was away in 
the city, however, and it would scarcely be right to draw 
upon his limited resources. Besides, if I went myself for 
such assistance, I would leave the house entirely unpro- 
tected during my absence. On the whole, the best thing 
to do was to ask Mrs. Crummels to send one of the ser- 
vants, or even one of her daughters, over to a cottage at 
the further end of the property, which was inhabited by a 
couple of men who worked for Mr. Dalzelle. 

Mrs. Crummels started off down-stairs on her mission, 
only to return a moment later with the reply that her 
daughters absolutely refused to go, while the servants 
vowed they would throw up their situations first. Explain- 
ing to her, therefore, as much as I deemed necessary, I 
persuaded her to go back to her room and wait for her 
husband, whose return, I argued, could now be not much 
longer delayed. Then, to be ready for any emergency, 
I slipped on my clothes and lay down on my bed again 
with my pistol fully cocked at my side. 

Now, it is a curious fact going to prove the perversity 
of human nature, that when you desire to sleep it 
often happens that you are unable to do so, while if you 
wish to stay awake you never can. I instinctively re- 
cognized that probably at no period of my life had I more 
cause to keep my eyes open, and yet their lids never felt 
so heavy. I felt that some event of terrible import was 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


259 


on the eve of occurrence, some event which was to brin^ 
to a head the extraordinary circumstances of the past few 
months; and yet I almost believe that had I been sus- 
pended by a cord about the neck I would have dropped 
into the untimely slumber that I did. 

I was disturbed by the slamming of a door. I do not 
say I was awakened by it, but I was brought back to a 
state of semi-consciousness. For a moment I lay there 
drowsily reasoning on the occurrence, which I was just 
attributing to the entrance into the house of a horrible 
genius, who had taken possession of it, when my own 
door was burst open and a flood of burning light struck 
my eyes. 

“ Get up ! get up !” I heard a familiar voice cry. The 
house is on fire, and in another moment the stairs will go." 

I sprang to my feet, forgetting my pistol, and found 
Mrs. Crummels and the household gathered in the hall. 
They were nearly paralyzed with terror, and were wringing 
their hands at the sight of the flames leaping all about 
them and at the volumes of smoke. How the fire had 
secured such a headway before it was discovered seemed 
at the time a miracle, only to be accounted for by the 
long drought and the consequent dryness of the aged 
timbers. I learned afterwards that kerosene was to a 
greater degree responsible. The wall paper was actually 
burning when I reached the hall. 

“Follow me!” I cried, and, seizing a female in each 
arm, I pushed the rest helter-skelter down the stairs, 
which were crackling under our feet. Though the flames 
seemed veritably to leap after us, we reached the lower 


26 o 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


floor in safety, and I set to work to unbolt the main door. 

1 attacked it with a desperation little short of fury for the 
heat was terrible. The hinges turned outward, but, 
though I had slipped all the bolts, I found I could not 
move it. I applied all my weight to it, and at last it 
swung open, and I was precipitated out by the very force 
of my own exertions. Necessarily I was unprepared to 
resist any attack; I felt myself suddenly caught by each 
arm ; I saw four masked faces near my own ; I saw the 
women who were following me thrust back into the burn- 
ing building, and then, as the door was closed upon them, 
“ God damn you!” I heard whispered in my ear, “ we’ve 
got you at last.” 

The shrieks of those women still ring in my ears. Sud- 
denly they ceased and an ominous silence ensued, broken 
only by the roaring of the flames. Yet I fought desper- 
ately ; I would rather die than bear on my conscience the 
death of those poor creatures because of me. I offered 
my fortune, everything in the world that I had, if they 
should only be saved from that fiery furnace. As well 
appeal to demons; the whites of my captors’ eyes gleamed 
vindictively through their masks as they bound me, and 
but for that one sentence they said not a word. After I 
was firmly secured they laid me down on the grass for a 
moment, and stopped to survey their work. They were 
demons, and the light and the shooting flames were those 
of hell. 

It was not till the roof had fallen in with a mighty crash 
that I was raised to my feet and an arm was run through 
each of mine ; I was hurried down the old familiar lane 


the romance of an alter ego. 


261 


towards the shore. Here there was a boat in charge of a 
fifth masked man, and into this I was forced. Then the 
others entered, and, shoving off, they took their seats and 
rowed with muffled oars out into the still waters. Tied as 
I was, and lying in the stern, I resembled the subject of 
that famous picture by Gerome, called, I think, “ The 
Captured Slave.” 

I must think of something else than my present 
plight ; to reflect on that would make me crazy. Per- 
haps I was crazy. Could it be? Yes, it must be. I 
was mad ! But this was my bridal Tiight. “ Ha ! ha ! 
ha !” I laughed aloud. I saw a knife flash before my eyes 
in the moonlight. I courted the thrust. “ You’re cow- 
ards,” I cried. “ I dare you to strike !” 

There was a hurried movement as the black masks 
drew their heads together. Then one of them, coming 
over to me, slipped out a bottle; my head was thrust 
back, and I felt a pungent liquid gurgling down my throat. 
I must swallow it, if only to prevent strangulation. 

Yet, this must all be a nightmare, a continuation of my 
dreams. It was too sudden to be real — too abrupt a tran- 
sition from when I had lain down on my couch, wonder- 
ing what was to come. But this was my bridal night ! 
This fact refused to withdraw itself from my thoughts. 
Ha ! my bridal night, and I had been torn away. What 
would she think of it ? Great God ! And this was the 
very same fate at a similar period that had met her first 
bridegroom. The idea was grotesque. What terrible 
concomitance of circumstance ! What outrageous coinci- 
dence of fate could explain that ? How would she take 


262 


THE ROMANCE OE AN ALTER EGO. 


this second repetition of the drama ? I would drown 
myself. I would work myself over the side of the boat. 
I knew I was being reserved for a fate worse than that 
from which I had been seized; therefore I was only 
selecting a lesser evil. I tried to lift myself over the 
gunwale, but found my energies were departing. Had 
the liquid I had swallowed been drugged ? If so, it was 
beginning to work. The black masks themselves grew 
indistinct, and the moon seemed swimming and ducking 
like a buoy over my head. At last the moon and the 
black masks disappeared, as it were, in a mad dance 
together, and black, impenetrable darkness settled on 
me. 


XLVII. 


To make clear the events that are to follow I will re- 
lieve the reader of my own personality for a short time, 
and ask him to board the next morning that huge levia- 
than which is slowly approaching New York. She has 
lain off the bar at Sandy Hook all night, and the deep in- 
crustation of salt on her smoke stacks indicates a long 
voyage. An expert in mercantile affairs could distinguish 
by her flags that she trades between New York and South 
America, the land of silver-mines and flowers. Her pas- 
sengers are gradually emerging from their cabins to the 
decks, and by the time she draws opposite Staten 
Island they grew into a dense crowd, all pressing forward 
to the bows to catch a glimpse of their future home. 

And they are well repaid. Seen in all the glory of 
an early morning, the City of Cities rises like a new- 
born Venus from the main, with the sun touching as 
with electric fire, the weather-vanes of her numerous 
spires, and flooding her somewhat dirty streets with the 
promise of a better local government. To the right 
the huge suspension bridge springs an etherial link to 
join New York in wedlock with the City of Churches, 
and to the left the Statue of Liberty rears her head 
aloft, proudly emblematic of every citizen’s privilege of 
voting early, often, and late. As you get nearer the city 
263 


264 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

you can distinguish the trains on the elevated roads like 
huge snakes twisting around the Battery, and the lofty fa- 
9ades of the Field building and the Produce Exchange 
towering as red-clothed giants amongst the pigmies. Here 
entering and leaving their slips, are ferryboats freighted to 
the water’s edge with black massed humanity on their daily 
round of toil, for New York is awakening to another busy 
day — such a busy day as even strikes can only partially in- 
terfere with, and which can nowhere else be comprehended 
save in a land where men work as much for the sake of 
working as for the earnings of their work. 

Among those most interested in the sight, is a tall, 
handsome man, in the extreme bow. He has a bronzed 
face, on his head is a wide-brimmed sombrero, and a 
newspaper is in each hand. He has a quick, nervous man- 
ner, and his whole style and get-up would argue an ex- 
tended residence in Southern climes. At last the steamer 
draws near her dock, but what with the delay caused by 
getting several vessels that had anchored in her course 
out of her track, and the parting of a hawser or two, it 
is nearly ten before she finally disembarks her passengers. 
Among the first to land is the stranger we have de- 
scribed. He appears in a special hurry, and, directing 
that his baggage should remain in the Custom House 
till called for, he leaves a bright gold piece in the itching 
palm of an officer. 

Ten minutes afterwards he is bowling along in a coupe, 
and if your ear were close to the window you might hear 
his smothered curses at the pavements as he goes over 
the ruts and into the holes. The papers are still in his 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 265 

hands, and every now and then he looks at the advertise- 
ment sheet of one of them and at the following notice : 

“ If George Fitzamble will make his whereabouts known 
to, or will call upon or address, Mr. Winkle P. Slocum, 
Attorney-at-Law, No. 228 Broadway, he will learn some- 
thing to his advantage.” 

The other paper contains a full description of a law- 
suit that by this time has grown stale, great as was the 
interest it had excited a short time ago. Anon he reads 
the last, and anon he reads the advertisement — that is, 
as well as the villanous condition of the pavements will 
allow him, and which he every now and then compares 
with those of Valparaiso, but very much to the latter’s 
advantage. Here and there, too, the streets are blocked 
by the strikes along the car routes, and he looks at the 
lines of listless people standing about and at the solid 
files of police that occasionally disperse them by causing 
them to move on. Probably these sights recall the nor- 
mal condition of things in that land of chronic revolution 
from which he has just come. At all events they some- 
what delay him. On arriving at 228 Broadway he searches 
the names on the signboard in the hall, and, learning 
that Mr. Slocum occupies the fourth floor, he goes up 
the stairs three steps at a time. A moment later he 
bursts into the office of that gentleman with an impetu- 
osity that quite upsets the staid, old-fashioned clerks 
whom the distinguished advocate employed to obfusti- 
cate him. Three minutes afterwards he is confront- 
ing Mr. Slocum himself, who, in spite of strikes, is at his 
post, and who, rising in evident astonishment, wrinkles his 


266 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


nose more than he had ever been known to wrinkle it in 
my behalf. 

Yes, here I am,” exclaimed the stranger, dropping into 
a chair before the confused solicitor, “ safe and sound, 
come in answer to this advertisement.” 

“ Who are you, anyhow ?” 

“ I am Henry Simoni, known, by this lawsuit, to fame as 
George Henry Fitzamble.” 

What relation to my client ?” 
am his twin brother.” 

E Fluribus Unum T This was the strongest exple- 
tive Mr. Slocum ever permitted himself to indulge in, 
and was reserved for occasions of the most momentous 
character alone. “ But I don’t remember his mentioning 
that he had a twin brother,” he recovered himself to add, 
with an air of sudden doubt. “ It seems to me that he 
would certainly have given so natural an explanation of 
his dilemma.” 

“ I don’t suppose he knew that I was alive. I left my 
father’s house in a fit of boyish pride, enlisted in the army, 
fought with Grant in the Wilderness, was captured, and 
remained in prison till the close of hostilities. On return- 
ing to my former home I found that my father had died 
and my mother had moved away. I hadn’t sufficient 
means to prosecute any very exhaustive search, and was 
obliged to shift for myself. Besides, I felt that I had 
been badly treated, and that if my family cared for me 
they should have taken more pains that on my return from 
a Southern prison I could find them. But let me know 


THE ROMANCE OE AN ALTER EGO. 267 

my brother’s whereabouts ; I’m in a hurry to resume my 
acquaintance and will explain everything to him.” 

“ Your brother is somewhere in the country, I was told 
only yesterday. It is absolutely impossible now to reach 
him quicker than by taking the boat at four o’clock this 
afternoon. Go on with your story, therefore, and if you 
don’t mind I’ll have a stenographer take it down verba- 
tim and put you under oath. One never knows what may 
happen.” 

“ I have no objections,” was the reply. “ I suppose it’s 
only necessary for me to touch upon those circumstances 
of my past life that seem to bear upon the fix I’ve got my 
brother in. To tell you the truth, ever since the papers 
reached me in South America I have been trying to see 
whether any actions of mine prior to my marriage may 
not have conduced to his predicament, and I think they 
have. It might be better for me to give you the points 
as briefly as I can at first, and you can put them down on 
paper in proper shape afterwards. I will then attach my 
signature with all due formality.” 

‘‘I should think that would answer,” replied the 
lawyer. 

Very well, then. Suffice it to say that up to seven 
years ago I led rather a haphazard, rollicking sort of a 
life, with little profit to any one, still less to myself ; now 
a deck-hand of a steamboat, now ferrying logs down the 
Mississippi, and once I was on the point of enlisting 
again in the army. Five years ago, however, I drifted to 
Chicago, and as the labor troubles — which I see are still 
with us — were just then beginning, I secured employment 


268 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


as a Pinkerton detective. The service was congenial to 
me, and having a natural aptitude, I suppose, for such 
kind of work, I was retained on the permanent force. In 
the course of my profession I chanced upon the name of 
my brother connected with an extensive sale of cattle in 
the stockyards of that city. It was some time after 
the sale had been made that I learned of it, but I did not 
let go of the clue, and finally learned that he had come to 
New York. Then I obtained a leave of absence and fol- 
lowed him here. This accounts for the coincidence of my 
brother and myself being in New York at the same time. 
Circumstances, however, induced me to turn around and 
leave the city just as I arrived at the depot, thus prevent- 
ing me from communicating with him, and causing me to 
postpone my reunion to a later date. If you wish to know 
why, an extensive burglary had occurred at the villa of 
one of the summer residents at Newport, which had baffled 
the experience of the local police. A friend of mine 
whom I had known at Chicago in the detective force, 
happened to meet me at the Grand Central Depot as I was 
just getting out of the cars. He it was who told me 
about the case, and, further, he informed me that he had 
resolved to undertake its unravelment. As the reward 
was very large and the circumstances would not admit of 
any delay, he induced me by the dint of much persuasion 
to accompany him to Newport at once and to lend him 
my assistance. On arriving there I adopted an alias, as 
the necessity of my business had often required before, 
and registered at the Ocean House as an ordinary guest. 
During my investigations it was necessary to keep up the 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 269 

character of a gentleman of leisure, which I had assumed, 
and I thus became acquainted with the plaintiff in this 
suit. To cut the matter short, I became infatuated with 
her. I lost my interest in the work for which I had come, 
and at last told my friend I was going to marry and be- 
gin the world anew. You see, though well born, I had 
descended in the social scale, and I hardly thought the 
nature of my occupations and past life would meet her 
father’s approval; I even grew ashamed of my profession, 
for I doubted whether she would marry me if I told her 
what I was. I resolved, therefore, like many a better 
man, to secure her first and inform her afterwards of my 
true condition in life. 

‘‘Now, don’t interrupt me till I have finished, for here 
comes the most interesting part of the story. Some time 
back, in Chicago, I had devoted myself to the task of un- 
raveling the secrets of the Anarchists, whose doings were 
beginning to arouse public attention. My course of ac- 
tion naturally excited their enmity, but because of my 
connection with the police they likely feared to try any- 
thing on in Chicago. Nevertheless, I was a marked 
character, and when I came East to look up my brother 
they had me shadowed, which their affiliations with the 
criminal classes rendered it easy for them to have done. 
As no occasion offered at Newport to pay me off, how- 
ever, they waited till my return to New York, and then 
they ‘ shanghaied ’ me almost before the very eyes of 
my bride — ” 

“ ‘ Shanghaied ’ you !” 

Yes I that’s the professional jargon for kidnapping. 


270 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


and this is the way they did it : I had brought down my 
bride by the afternoon train that reached here at nine 
o’clock in the evening. We drove immediately to Blank’s 
Hotel on Broadway, and, while my wife retired to her 
room to brush up after her trip, I went into the restaurant 
to order something to eat. After leaving my order I was 
just going up for my wife to fetch her down when a card 
was brought to me accompanied by the message that my 
visitor was waiting at the door in a carriage. He desired 
particularly to see me, if only for a moment; but as he was 
crippled and any exertion was painful, he begged me to 
step outside instead of requiring him to come into the 
hotel to me. The request struck me as a little unusual, 
and it seemed additionally inexplicable that my arrival 
should be already known; but my curiosity was piqued, so 
I went out. I found the vehicle drawn up a little beyond 
the lights from the hotel entrance, and occupied by a 
single person. On gaining the doorstep, he made a sign 
of caution, and, beginning to speak of the Newport bur- 
glary, requested to know the amount I would give for the 
recovery of the stolen articles. His objection to enter- 
ing the hotel now seemed logical. He was anxious to 
avoid any unnecessary publicity on his mission as a go-be- 
tween. Consequently, when he asked me to step inside 
the carriage for greater precaution, I did so, unsuspicious 
of treachery. No sooner had I entered, however, and 
shut the door behind me, than he slipped his arm about 
my neck, and, with a power amply refuting any question 
of physical infirmity, choked my cries, while another man, 
whom I had not noticed before, entered the carriage by 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


271 


the opposite door. Then one of them, I hardly know 
which, pressed a handkerchief soaked with chloroform 
under my nose. The attack was so sudden, and I was so 
completely off my guard, that I was unable to offer any 
effective resistance, and before I could prevent it I felt 
myself losing consciousness, for I am particularly sensi- 
tive to narcotics in any form. 

‘‘When I next opened my eyes I found myself on 
board a steamer bound for Valparaiso. I will give you 
the particulars of my trip later.” 

“ Are such things possible?” asked Mr. Slocum in as- 
tonishment. 

“ For fifty dollars I could kidnap any one you chose to 
name, from the President down.” 

But why did you not communicate what had hap- 
pened to you ?” 

“I did As soon as I arrived at Valparaiso I wrote my 
wife a long letter, giving the full particulars.” 

“ She never could have received it.” 

“ She never received it! Well, the only way I can ac- 
count for that is that the country was in a state of revo- 
lution, and the mail subject to constant depredations.” 

“ Your story, at all events, throws light on the extraor- 
dinary series of attempts that have been made on your 
brother’s life,” said Mr. Slocum. “ They mistook him for 
you.” 

Thereupon the lawyer gave a brief resume of these at- 
tempts, omitting the last, of which he had no knowledge, 
as he neither yet had heard even of my marriage. 

“ Yes, that must account for it. I found pinned inside 


272 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


my shirt, when I woke up on board the steamer, a letter 
stating that I had got off very easily, but that if I ever 
returned again my life should pay the penalty. When 
my brother appeared on the scene they mistook him for 
me, I suppose, and naturally thought I had come back in 
spite of orders and to bring them to justice. He is lucky 
to have escaped. All these labor troubles must have en- 
couraged them.” 

‘ ‘ But it is a most extraordinary case, in spite of his re- 
semblance to you,” said Mr. Slocum musingly. “ I mean 
that the courts themselves should have been deceived.” 

‘‘Not half so extraordinary as this. I cut it out of a 
back number of the New York World which the pilot 
brought out to us.” And he presented a long clipping 
from that journal dated August i6. “ Here is a man 

named Robert Leeson Porter imprisoned for months be- 
cause of a like resemblance to one Scott Partin who had 
committed murder. Had it not been for the prominent 
paper that brought his case before the public he might 
have been hanged.” 

“ But this shampooing, then — I mean this ‘ shanghaing’ 
business,” exclaimed Mr. Slocum confusedly, who never- 
theless, finding himself routed out of one intrenchment, 
retreated to another before giving up. “You must admit 
that this is a slight strain on one’s credulity.” 

“ I can meet your objection even on that point by the 
public journals, too. In the New York Telegram of last 
June 1 6 , which also contained an advertisement for my 
return, appeared this letter from a man who had met ex- 
actly the same fate as mine. I have cut it out, and here 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 273 

it is for you to read. What strikes me as the most extra- 
ordinary is the coincidence of my finding these two cases, 
acknowledged to be accurate by every one, and in two of 
the most prominent daily papers of this very city, almost 
precisely similar to mine. In the face of these, no one 
has the right to say my story is extravagant.” 

“ Truth is stranger than fiction.” 

Mr. Slocum finally gave up the citadel of his doubts. 

“ Let me ask one thing more, however, but on a dif- 
ferent line. Why have you been so long away ? Was it 
your dread of these Anarchist people ?” 

** Most assuredly not. In my letter to Edna I gave my 
reasons, and these I will only explain to her. This, how- 
ever, I will say: that when I woke to consciousness I was 
very ill from the effects of the chloroform. A passenger 
on board, a South-American, extended me his sympathy, 
and, taking a fancy to me, finally offered me a position as 
foreman in a silver-mine he had back in the interior. It 
was, however, not a very attractive berth. Three of his 
former agents had been shot by the bandits that infested 
that region, and four had died of South American shakes, 
as they call it. His object in offering it to me was princi- 
pally because of my nationality, and because he thought 
that the grit of a Yankee could surmount every obstacle. 
As it turned out, I did surmount them, and, though the 
mine was supposed to be exhausted, I had shipped out some 
improved machinery from Chicago, and made it pay very 
well. Then I bought a share in it, and expect to get a 
fortune out of it before I’ve finished. If my brother is in 
that way inclined, I will let him in on the ‘ ground floor.’ 


274 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


But I must see my wife as soon as possible ; such I con- 
sider to be my duty.” 

“ I think if you don’t see her soon you won’t see her 

your wife,” said Mr. Slocum dryly. 

What do you mean ?” 

It looks very much to me as if your brother’s affec- 
tions were engaged. He’s been stopping down near them 
in the country, and he follows her about like a shadow.” 

“ Great God !” exclaimed the stranger, and he walked 
over to the window and wiped the perspiration from his 
forehead. 

“My advice is not to drop in too suddenly on her,” 
went on the lawyer; “ but if you intend going down to see 
her, allow me to suggest your stopping at her father’s 
city residence, and learning exactly where his country 
place is. I think the landing is called Rocky Point, but 
I’m not quite sure, though I know the boat starts at four 
o’clock.” 

The stranger took up his hat to leave, but was detained 
at the door by Mr. Slocum. 

“ There is one other circumstance I ought to mention, 
and which, but for the interesting nature of your commu- 
nication, I would have thought of mentioning to you 
before. It is that your brother has lately secured other 
counsel. It might be advisable for you to see him also. 
His name is Mr. Reginald P. Star. Strictly speaking, I 
ought to have turned you over to him at first. His ad- 
dress is Broadway.” 


XLVIII. 


Nevertheless, despite this intelligence, Henry Simcni, 
as he must now be called, has himself driven from Mr. Slo- 
cum’s to the apartment house of Mr. Dalzelle instead of 
to Mr. Star’s. Arrived here, he questions the porter, and 
learns that, instead of being in the country, Mr. Dalzelle 
had remained in the city over-night, and that his daughter 
had unexpectedly returned but half an hour ago to town. 
He also learns that the cause of her coming is some very 
shocking, not to say tragic, event that had occurred at 
Rocky Point. 

The porter could give no very accurate information, 
stating that he was new to the post he filled. He thought, 
however, that Mr. Dalzelle had not yet seen his daughter, 
as he had stopped in the city over-night and had gone to 
his office long before her arrival. She had just sent a 
messenger down-town for him in hot haste. She was up- 
stairs alone, and if the gentleman desired any further in- 
formation he had better go up and question her himself. 

“Suppose you go and ask her first if she will receive 
me,” observes the stranger, with a catch in his voice. 

“ What name shall I say ?” 

“Never mind the name ; simply state that a gentleman 
desires to see her on very particular business.” 

“ Very good, sir.” And the porter disappears, leaving 
275 


276 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

Henry Simoni in the hall as casually as if he were an ordi- 
nary visitor. 

Five minutes afterwards the porter returns. 

“ If you will walk up, sir. she will receive you.” 

For a moment he hesitates, then, gripping the banisters 
with a nervous grasp, the visitor mounts the stairs. At the 
fifth floor he stops again, but at last rings the bell with 
trembling hand. After a few moments’ delay the door is 
opened by a woman — a woman so pale and ghost-like we 
scarce recognize her. 

“ Who asks for Edna Dalzelle?” she inquires. Then 
the long-deserted wife and the errant husband are face to 
face. 

Half an hour after this meeting, or, to be precise, at ex- 
actly three o’clock, Henry Simoni proceeds in a condition 
of great agitation to Mr. Star’s, whose address Mr. Slo- 
cum had given him. To Mr. Star he repeats in substance 
the story he had told Mr, Slocum, and communicates to 
him in addition all the particulars he had learned of my 
late abduction. This fails to surprise Mr. Star, as it 
would seem that it ought to do, at least to any one unac- 
quainted with the contents of the telegram he had sent 
me the previous evening. Henry Simoni himself express- 
es his surprise that Mr. Star is not surprised, whereupon 
Mr. Star opens the door of the adjoining room and sur- 
prises Mr. Simoni by summoning the detective who had 
so lately arrived from Chicago in my interest. Thus the 
two detectives, the one from Chicago and the ex-detec- 
tive from Valparaiso, are brought face to face, to the 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 277 

mutual astonishment of each and with mutual expres- 
sions of pleasure at seeing each other still, in the flesh. 

The business of Henry Simoni, however, seems of such 
all-absorbing moment that the renewal of his acquain- 
tance is confined to a few brief words. These over, he 
refers to my abduction, and, the two laying their heads 
together with that of Mr. Star as a third, it is resolved, 
after much discussion, to proceed forthwith to Rebecca 
Seaton’s. 

Nearly two hours have been consumed at Mr. Star’s, 
consequently it is now near five o’clock before this com- 
mittee of three sally forth. Arrived at Rebecca Seaton’s, 
they are informed by Theophilus that she is invisible, 
but whether she is at home or really out is not vouch- 
safed. 

Here there is another hurried consultation, after which 
Mr. Star leads the way to Dr. Henry’s, only to meet with 
a similar disappointment. A very active afternoon our 
trio are having, since from Dr. Henry’s they proceed to 
Mr. Dalzelle’s. Every one they seek, however, appears 
to vanish at the moment of need, and they are in- 
formed here also by the porter that Edna has gone out. 
This intelligence seems to puzzle them extremely, and they 
take a hasty dinner at a neighboring restaurant while talk- 
ing it over. 

The next place visited is the College of Physicians, on 
the corner of Fourth Avenue and Twenty-third street, but 
apparently with equal lack of success in finding whom or 
what they want, as they start off again, and visit from there 
the Police Headquarters in Mulberry street. Again they 


278 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


seem baffled, for, doubling on their track, they return to 
Rebecca’s. But all this crossing and recrossing of their 
track, this visiting and doubling and dining, have con- 
sumed time, and the shades of night are falling as they 
reach her familiar doorsteps. Some suspicion connected 
with Dr. Henry and Rebecca they evidently have con- 
ceived, and again they are confronted by Theophilus, who 
somewhat reluctantly admits them into the hall, and, at 
their urgent request, finally into the office. 

Mr. Star assumes the r61e of spokesman, as he raises 
his hand to the chandelier and turns up the gas. 

“ Theophilus,” he observes, “ we wish to see your 
mistress.” 

The manner of Theophilus, as previously intimated, 
was never prepossessing. 

“ So you want to see the missus, does you ?” he replied 
laconically. Well, that’s very flatterin’ to her — very flat- 
terin’ indeed." 

“ Is she in the house ?” pursued the lawyer. 

“ Well, I don’t see her,” answered the youth, looking 
vacantly about him. 

“ For we were thinking,” continued Mr. Star, “ that she 
might inform us what had become of Mr. Aaron Simoni.” 

“ Oh ! you was thinkin’ that, was you ?” went on Theo- 
philus in the same sneering tone. “ Did it take three of 
yous to think that out?” 

At this moment the detective from Chicago interposed. 

“Theophilus,” he said curtly, “if you don’t tell us 
where your mistress is we’re going to arrest you.” 

The young man threw up his hands in ironic delectation. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 279 

“ How ecstatic!” he said. “A nice striped suit, which 
is so fashionable now, and nuthin' to do but sit around 
all day so as not to interfere with any reg’lar trade. 
Smuther evenin’, I guess, howsomever.” 

“ No, we’ll take you right off with us now,” exclaimed 
the detective, slightly nettled. 

“ No, you won’t,” said Theophilus in a different tone, 
at last giving up banter. 

And why won’t we ?” 

“ Because you ain’t got no warrant, nor is there any law 
to make a person answer foolish questions.” 

The detective threw open his coat so as to disclose his 
badge. 

“ Very pretty,” said Theophilus, still unconquered ; 
‘^but, however captivatin’ to the ladies, it don’t captivate 
me. Keep it for Chicago, my innocent; it don’t wash in 
New York.” 

“Theophilus,” observed Henry Simoni, coming to the 
rescue of his baffled comrades, “ if you’ll give us the 
information we want, this bill is yours.” And, to the 
dismay of the other two gentlemen, he held up before 
Theophilus a note of one hundred dollars. 

A sudden change came over the young man. 

Now, gents, you’re talking business,” he said. ‘^Sit 
down. S’pose we call it five.” 

‘‘Well, if you will give me such information as I wish, 
and this results in rescuing my brother, I will make it 
five.” 

Henry Simoni’s two companions shrugged their shoul- 
ders in disapproval, while the sallow complexion of Theo- 


280 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


philus actually became livid, as the perspiration started 
out in beads all over his face. 

“ How will you fix it so that I’ll be sure you won’t go 
back on your word ?” he asked cautiously. 

“ I’ll pay you by installments.” 

How do I know it ain’t flash ?” 

“ Because I guess you’re ’cute enough to tell a good 
note from a bad one.” 

“Lay her down on the table,” said Theophilus, ‘^and 
I’ll test her.” Thereupon he slipped his finger in 
his mouth, and then pressed it firmly down on one 
corner of the note. “I guess I’ll risk it,” he said, 
closely scrutinizing his finger. “ There’s only one man 
that makes ‘ queer ’ of that denomination, and his color 
always comes off. She’s good enough for me.” 

“Very well, then ; as you are satisfied, I am going to 
trust you by making a clean breast of our dilemma,” re- 
sumed my brother. “The situation is exactly this: 
Aaron Simoni has been kidnapped. We have suspicions 
by whom, but we do not know where he is held. We also 
have a suspicion that your mistress knows, and possibly 
you too. In consideration of his having signed her bonds 
yesterday, we hoped that we could get Dr. Henry to ob- 
tain this information from her. We therefore called at 
his house, but, though his office hours were not over, he 
was out. Next we returned to Miss Dalzelle’s, also in 
the hope that she might persuade your mistress to tell us, 
but she too had left her house. The fact of her going 
out is somewhat peculiar, because when last seen, only a 
few hours before, she was in very great distress, and more 


THE ROMANCE OP AN ALTER EGO. 


281 


fitted for bed than an afternoon’s outing. Next we went 
to the College of Physicians, but could learn nothing of 
Dr. Henry there. Now, I said I was going to try and 
purchase from you the information about my brother, and 
about one or two other facts besides ; further, I said I 
would pay you by installments ; therefore I will give you 
this hundred-dollar bill first if you will truthfully tell me 
where Miss Dalzelle is at this very moment.” 

Theophilus got up from his chair, looked cautiously out 
of the door, then, coming back, ‘‘She’s up-stairs,” he said 
curtly. 

Henry Simoni presented the bill, which was fresh and 
crisp, and Theophilus grabbed it like a hungry shark. 

“Where is Dr. Henry ?” was the next terse question. 

“He’s up-stairs with her,” answered Theophilus. 

Another bill followed, and met a similar fate to the first. 

“ Where is your mistress ?” 

Theophilus hesitated a long time before answering this. 
“She’s up-stairs, too,” he at last admitted. 

A third bill was handed out and pocketed. 

“Now tell me, what are they all doing up there? Is 
your mistress and Dr. Henry cooking up another experi- 
ment with Miss Dalzelle ?” 

“That’s a question I won’t answer,” said Theophilus. 
“ But if you wish to find your brother, all you've got to do 
is to foller Dr. Henry and the young lady when they leave 
the house.” 

“Very well, then,” ejaculated the other detective, 
again coming to the front. “ If you won’t answer our 
questions, we’d better go up-stairs and nip whatever’s 


282 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


going on in the bud. The law would warrant us in doing 
that much. 

Theophilus looked at the speaker with an insolent air. 
“ I guess you're too fresh for this city," he observed. “ If 
you go up-stairs and interfere, it’s Aaron Simoni’s escape 
as what you’ll be nipping in the bud. You won’t learn 
even where he’s detained, for Dr. Henry won’t know till 
just before setting out. The young missus, though she 
will go with him, never will know, because she won’t be in 
her right mind ; while as for the missus, if you try to come 
it rough over her, the most that you will do is to put a 
porous plaster over her mouth. Now, see here," he con- 
tinued, turning to my brother, “you’ve treated me like a 
gentleman, and I want to help you ; so if you will only 
promise that you won’t get the missus into trouble, I’ll 
start you on the right track. She’s goin’ to put the young 
woman under the influence of mesmerism, and make her 
take some character what is similar to that of the people 
who is holdin’ your brother. Dr. Henry has persuaded 
her to do this in the interest of science, as he calls it; for 
after his slip-up of the other night, he wants to see with 
his own eyes how far the young missus will really go when 
it comes to the point.” 

“But this experiment — has it to do with my broth- 
er ?" 

“ I think it has, but I don’t know exactly how, as all 
that I have learned is from a few remarks as escaped from 
a key-hole opposite which I happened to be. I’m sure of 
this, however, that the experiment will be held at the spot 
where your brother is detained.’’ 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


283 


Could it in any manner prove injurious to the lady ?” 

“ I don’t think so. A carriage is ordered from Brown’s 
livery stable to be here at eight o’clock. Dr. Henry will 
put her in after she has been mesmerized, and drive her 
over direct. It will be somewhere in the neighborhood 
of Jersey City, and my advice to you is to wait concealed 
in another carriage till they leave the house, and then 
follow them.” 

“ But the professor might become aware of our pursuit 
and give us the slip.” 

For ten dollars I guess you could get his driver to 
change places with you on the box before they start. 
Then you’d have them under your wing all the time. 
After you have left them at their destination, you had 
better drive around to the nearest police station and let 
the cops know. If I was you I wouldn’t return to the 
house you drive ’em to, without a pretty good force.” 

“But I fail to see,” said Mr. Star, picking up the con- 
versation at this point, “why the best way would not be 
simply to send up to Dr. Henry, tell him our dilemma, and 
trust to him to help us out. He is treading on very delicate 
ground, and he could hardly refuse his assistance when 
it’s a case of rescuing this gentleman’s brother.” 

“ Then you don’t know the doctor,” said Theophilus. 
“ He’s a perfect crank on this yere mesmerism. To help 
you out he would have to give up the experiment, and 
before doing that he’d sacrifice his own brother, let alone 
any one else’s. If you send up, therefore, and try to make 
him help you, you’ll only be kicking the fat into the 
fire. 


284 the romance of an alter ego. 

“ Well, then,” replied Mr. Star, turning to his two com- 
panions, “ the case, as I understand, can be thus summed 
up: Rebecca owes your brother a grudge, and won’t 
direct us to the place where he is detained. Dr. Henry 
might, but would be afraid of foregoing his experiment if 
he did. Edna can’t, and the police, as we are already 
aware, know nothing. If we go up-stairs and forcibly try 
to make Rebecca part with her information, we run the 
risk, as our young friend here epigrammatically expresses 
it, of upsetting the fat in the fire. And last, but not least, 
delay is risky. Under the circumstances, there only re- 
mains to follow out the advice of Theophilus. He looks 
like a pious young man, and I have no doubt, in due course 
of time, will become an ornament to the church. But I 
must confess things have arrived at a pretty pass when 
the united talent of Chicago, Valparaiso, and New York 
can find no other means of discovering the whereabouts 
of a gentleman who has been made away with in the most 
public manner than by following a mesmerized girl and 
a half-cracked professor. Theophilus, on second thought, 
you had better adopt the law, if only to help me out when 
I get beyond my depth.** 


XLIX. 


In the suburbs of a city closely adjoining New York is a 
wide reach of waste land, pockmarked here and there with 
the dilapidated shanties of the squatter and hovels of 
wood. About one-half of this tract has been filled in and 
laid out in embryo streets, while the other half merges and 
is finally lost in an immense swamp, through which a slug- 
gish river like a snake wends its slimy way. On the sur- 
face of this river is always an iridescent film of oil, and 
over the whole district an odor caused by the various other 
ingredients the stream is used to carry away, breeding a 
peculiar kind of bird that has greater claims to being re- 
garded as national than the eagle, for it is far braver, 
more ubiquitous, and is much more intimately associated 
with the ideas of American life. I mean the American 
mosquito. 

Another description of game that the region abounds in 
is the festive goat, and of wild animals a peculiar raven- 
ous kind of lean, long-legged biped, with great teeth and 
small stomach, that, under more favorable surroundings 
and conditions, might develop into the genus man. 
These, finding little to their taste in the hovels, fight and 
wrangle with the goats for any lurking sweetness to be 
found lingering in the disused tomato can. 

285 


286 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


In addition to the natural advantages previously men- 
tioned, the beauty of scenery is enhanced towards the west 
by a large building bearing the cheerful sign of “ Metallic 
Caskets Made Here,” while towards the east the tall 
chimneys of iron foundries and oil factories throw a veil 
of smoke, when they are in blast, over the sweet beyond. 

In short, these are the dumping grounds of the closely 
adjoining city — the waste land of creation, I might almost 
say. And when Isaiah, the prophet, spoke of a scene of 
abomination and of desolation, he must have had in his 
mind’s eye a faint counterpart to this. 

Yet, pinched and hungry as are the children of “ Misery 
Flats,” they are ofttimes the prey of a still stranger kind 
of bird than the mosquito, and that, flocking down with 
the night, causes the children to watch for its shadows with 
the liveliest terror — ill-favored birds, which, if not armed, 
like the mosquito, with venomous stings, are yet equipped 
with long pointed hooks. They are the scavenger 
birds of the great metropolis raking over the refuse 
that has been so lavishly distributed here. Gaunt, 
grizzled, unsavory, foreign-looking birds they are for 
the most part, with carnivorous beaks, and backs bent 
at the middle because of much stooping. Each one car- 
rying a lantern, they stretch over the flats till they seem 
an army of fireflies, muttering strange curses and hunt- 
ing for rags or bones or any stray child that crosses their 
path, bacco.'* And why not, forsooth? Brought 
out, by contract under alluring promises of labor, they 
naturally are not averse to square themselves with a 
civilization that, once they have spent the little they have 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 287 

landed with, turns them out to beg, to scratch, to steal, 
to starve, to die. Nevertheless even these ragpickers 
have a passing gleam of luxury. Along the edge of 
“Misery Flats” runs a great railroad line, which in part 
owns and controls these flats, and occasionally a director, 
in his private car no less sumptuous than the carriage of 
a marquis of the old regime, flashes out of the night. 

Through plate-glass windows ablaze with light they 
catch a momentary glimpse, of soft hangings and velvet 
folds, and, sunk in deeply cushioned seat, of some 
podgy, turtle-fed man, sipping champagne perhaps. 
Then these ragpickers shake their iron hooks. In some 
such style as this their kings and emperors go by. “ A 
king or a president,” they mutter, *‘a director or a mar- 
quis. Body of Christ ! What difference ! Tear of Christ ! 
Does not this man ‘ control ’ everything there is to con- 
trol, from the oil that lights our lanterns down to the iron 
in our hooks ? Does he not control these marshes, ay, 
and the very wheat in that elevator over there that rises 
against the distant star-speckled horizon like a black cof- 
fin to Hope ?” And perhaps they recall on some sunny 
hillside of Bohemia a little vineyard which they have bar- 
tered to the emigration agent of this very man to land 
them here, and whom they now accuse of “ the deep 
damnation of their taking off.” 

So the director passes on, like the marquis (control- 
ler of marches, if not of marshes, too), letting his light 
shine before all men that they may see his good works and 
glorify their Father in heaven for allowing things to be 
as they are on earth. So passes the director, or perhaps 


288 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


only you; in the ordinary comfort of the dining-room car, 
sipping, not champagne, but only lager, oblivious that 
beer is nectar to those that drink of misery’s cup alone. 

But to return to these flats, instead of passing through 
them as the rich and turtle-fed are prone to do. Misery 
Flats has a heart ! A heart, geographically speaking, and 
such a heart as the hub is to the wheel; a chief center of 
revolution, so to speak — remember that — and which, in 
order to give especial value to it, I have artistically wait- 
ed till the last to describe. And this heart has pulsa- 
tions, and it has light. It has oil lamps standing in its 
windows. In short, the heart of Misery Flats is incased 
in the flimsy walls of a high city building which stands 
out, gaunt, ugly, rickety, solitary, in the dreary waste, 
midway between the oil factories and the metallic casket 
ditto, and near enough to be reached by hands from the 
foundries, ay, and also mouths. At night time this house 
with its every window is aflame, and the inhabitants, poor 
as they are and distressful, pass it on the opposite side 
of the street with a shudder. All the atrocities of the 
universe are not confined to the ‘‘Pineries of Michi- 
gan” — no, nor to the blood stained course of the New 
York aqueduct; for many are the legends of hideous 
sins and nameless infamies perpetrated here, and 
mingled with the ribald jest and snatches of song that 
escape its portals are often heard the stifled scream of 
ravished maidenhood decoyed into the blazing hell; 
deeds that the public journals could scarcely find suffi- 
ciently startling alliteration to describe, and that even cause 
the festive goat to quake. Here is the rendezvous, in 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 289 

truth, of the carnivorous beaked birds with the iron 
hooks. And also occasionally of a factory hand whom 
the oil factories or the blast furnaces throw penniless on 
the community when they have no further need of his 
services. Also of a still mote mysterious kind of bird, 
bird of especial ill-omen, of whom I will have more to say 
later on. 

The ground floor of this attractive residence is occu- 
pied as a liquor saloon, the second, third and fourth 
floors are let out in lodgings (God help the lodgers!), 
while to what purpose the fifth floor is sanctified will soon 
be seen. 

Over the door is the suggestive signboard, “ THE 
HOUSE OF BLAZES.” 


L. 


In a small room on the top story of this house I, Aaron 
Simoni, found myself lying when I next opened my eyes, 
with the only light admitted by a grated window too high up 
to reach. J udging from the way this light struck through, 

I inferred the hour to be near one o’clock. I felt dazed, 
exactly as if I had been drugged, with a sickening sensation 
in the region of the stomach, rendering me incapable of 
any exertion, whether physical or mental. Though as 
yet I was unaware of my brother’s existence, narcotics 
had as serious an effect upon me as on him, and a phy- 
sician who had once applied them to me for a slight 
operation afterwards warned me against their use, except 
in cases of the most urgent necessity. They not only 
temporarily affected my brain, but the action of my 
heart, and after the occasion to which I refer I was not 
myself again for a week’s time. Though I forgot this 
circumstance now as I lay there, I deem it only fair to 
the reader to mention this in behalf of the outrageous 
scene that follows, the recollection of which may have 
been colored by the condition my mind was in. 

I remembered the circumstances of the past only 
vaguely, and as if they were removed from the present 
by the lapse of years. I wondered, however, what was to 
be my fate, and why its delay? Then I remembered 

29Q 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


291 


Edna, and wondered how she would take this second de- 
sertion. The thought of Edna made me mad, and then 
again the cries of those women as they were thrust back 
into that fiery hell. Ah ! God must have been a monster 
to have endowed man with “memory!” 

I lay down on the floor and. tried to sleep away thought, 
and as I lay there I found I was rolling up against some- 
thing. It was long and black, a sort of box, and it had 
a familiar shape of evil import. I got up and examined it. 
It was a coffin. Was it meant for me ? My mind, as I 
say, was still dazed, and I argued about myself as if I 
were some one else having no part or parcel with me, 
but only temporarily inhabiting the carnal structure I 
was in 

The coffin puzzled me rather than alarmed me ; I 
thought its being there peculiar, that is all. The whole 
of that afternoon I lay there in a semi-conscious state, 
taking no notice of the lapse of time. I watched the 
little streak of sunlight that filtered in through the 
window fade into dusk, dusk change to evening, evening 
to night, and I finally heard a far-away peal of bells ring 
out. I listened to them, trying to count the number of vi- 
brations, till they finally died away. Deep silence followed 

a dead, ominous silence that you could feel — and then 

away down in the distance, I heard the tramp of many 
feet ; faint at first, but rising, and gaining in distinctness 
as if they were approaching; not as of a tumultuous crowd, 
but as of one that had a fixed common purpose, a unity of 
purpose proved by the uniformity of tread. There was 
something solemn in this regularity. Louder and louder it 


292 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


grew, till the creaking of the timbers assured me that the 
people whoever they were had emerged at last on 
the floor on which I lay. Then I could hear the 
scraping of chairs, as if they were seating themselves, 
each one with the same order as if taking a place that had 
been previously allotted to each, I was absolutely with- 
out light, and, as I listened, my hand (for I still lay on 
the floor) came again in contact with the coffin. Its touch 
for the first time suggested any idea of terror. I had 
thought of it in an impersonal way, as if it had been in- 
tended for another. Now it made my very flesh creep, and 
I suddenly connected it with this solemn tramp of men. 
I rose to my feet, and as I did so the portals were thrown 
open. I felt myself seized and passed out of the room. 

The transition from darkness to light was so abrupt 
that all I could distinguish was that I was being con- 
ducted through a loft improvised into a kind of concert 
hall or place for political meetings. The walls were hung 
with a few cheap red flags, and here and there the signs 
of “Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity” met the eye. 
The further end of the room was raised in a sort of stage, 
and on this were two men seated, both well dressed in 
black clothes, one in the middle of the stage and the 
other at a table on the right. Between these two was a 
vacant chair, and in this I was strapped down. After the 
commotion caused by my entrance had somewhat subsided, 
the man in the middle of the stage, who had a weak but 
intellectual cast of countenance, rose and looked over 
the audience. This, as I was now able for the first time 
to notice, was composed for the most part of the very dregs 


tHE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 2g^ 

of civilization, male and female. Here and there, how- 
ever, like sheep that had strayed amongst wolves, were a 
few pallid, long-haired individuals of a social status equal 
to that of the man who had risen to speak, and I think to 
these he unconsciously addressed himself. 

“Friends and brothers,” he said, “I bid you greeting. 
Without unnecessary preliminaries, it will be sufficient for 
me to state that I have not called you this evening together 
without a special object. To fully appreciate this object, 
and to explain the presence of this man [pointing to me] 
in your midst, it will be necessary, however,' to touch upon 
the past history of our society. As chairman of the Ex- 
ecutive Committee of the Brotherhood for the Rejuvena- 
tion of Society, I have lately been laboring, as you are 
aware, to bring about a closer union between the differ- 
ent elements of the Anarchical and Socialistic parties in 
this country, and to reorganize them under one head. 
My efforts in this direction have been frustrated during 
the last six months, and seemed likely to be brought to 
naught, by an occurrence the attendant circumstances of 
which date back to the very infancy of our Society. Five 
years ago, when the wrongs the people suffered from caused 
us to band together for the redress of our grievances, and 
to purchase arms and drill, a member of the Chicago de- 
tective force assumed the responsibility of investigating 
too closely our affairs,. On discovering his espionage two 
courses were open to us : to dekroy him or to remove him 
from the country under such conditions as would make 
his return unlikely. We adopted the latter course. Our 
leniency was the more excusable from the fact that at the 


294 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


time of his banishment we were unaware of the extent 
of his discoveries. The increased severity of the police, 
however, to which we became soon after subjected, leaves 
little room to doubt as to the minuteness of the informa- 
tion which he had left as a heritage in their hands. It is 
a matter of history, too, how the unrelenting persecutions 
that ensued led to our frenzied rising in the Haymarket ; 
so if this man cannot be held as accessory to the mur- 
der of the seven martyrs who gave up their lives in expia- 
tion of the acts of that day, he must be considered as 
responsible for the oppressions that produced them. Had 
he chosen to stay away, however, we would not have 
sought him; but at the very moment when like a phoenix 
our society was rising again from its ashes, when my 
efforts to reunite the scattered elements of our brother- 
hood in one strong, vigorous body promised to be crowned 
with success, we learned, by a very singular lawsuit brought 
by his wife for her support, that he had returned and was 
again amongst us. Leaving out of consideration any 
question oi retribution, leaving out of consideration the 
fact that he returned with his eyes open, knowing exactly 
what to expect, could we countenance his return from the 
standpoint of our own self-preservation ? Could we hope, 
in face of his intimate acquaintance and thorough famil- 
iarity with our methods and our aims, to bring about our 
long-dreamed-of union ? What is bred in the bone comes 
out in the flesh, and in spite of, or perhaps because of, 
the danger he realized the publicity of his lawsuit drew 
upon him from us, he put himself in communication 
again with his old friends, the police. At all events, 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


295 


he became a standing menace to us, threatening not only 
our hoped-for reorganization, but the lives of each and 
every individual among us. Thus it became imperative 
to put him beyond the possibility of causing us further 
mischief. This we endeavored to do, not instigated by 
any desire of revenge, or even that of making an exam- 
ple of him to others, but simply in the interest of our own 
self-preservation, which is an instinct that actuates all 
bodies of men, the most highly as well as the least civil- 
ized, when their existence is at stake. 

“ Finding that we were on his track, however, he con- 
tinually eluded us and moved at last into a secluded part 
of the country. His choice of retreat played into our 
hands. The isolation of the neighborhood enabled us to 
apprehend him, which I, for one, vastly preferred to do, so 
that the matter of his disposal might be left to you all 
at a full meeting. There he is before you.” 

Loud murmurs greeted this speech, and I detected here 
and there the handle of a knife ominously steal from its 
place of concealment. 

It was at the moment when these murmurs were at the 
loudest that a woman in the rear of the audience rose and 
walked down the middle aisle. She wore a hood over 
her head which concealed her features, but something in 
her gait, her figure riveted my attention, and before 
she had reached the foot of the stage / had recognized my 


LI. 


She was under the influence of mesmerism, and a 
curiosity wild and inord^ate took possession of me, 
which mitigated my horror at beholding her in such 
a place. Instead of mounting the platform she turned 
to the audience • 

“My friends,” she said, “I have been sent from 
Chicago to tell you the meaning of anarchy. It is de- 
struction, of course, but only that reconstruction may be 
possible. If the tree is rotten, cut it down, says the 
Bible. Is society not rotten also ? Take America, where 
the experiment of democracy has had the best opportuni- 
ties of trial. Why is it that here we are especially called 
upon to push the good work on? Because democracy, 
through its hypocrisy, is the greatest foe to the real 
equality of men, by giving cover to abuses that no other 
description of government could afford to tolerate. The 
proof of the pudding is in the eating. Have such enor- 
mous differences grown up between wealth and poverty in 
any monarchical country in Europe within the same period 
as here ? Nay ; democracy is directly responsible for 
this, because the class of men whom a democracy raises 
to power make common cause with the capitalist. He 
becomes the co-partner in his ventures by which the pub- 
lic are the losers. Why, the franchises sold by our legisla- 
296 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


297 


tures and our boards of aldermen — franchises that are 
the foundations of these enormous fortunes — ought to 
have paid the entire taxes of an economically adminis- 
tered state. 

“ John Swinton, in a little book he wrote of his travels 
though France, speaks in glowing terms of the compara- 
tive brightness of the lives of the French working people. 
Why, let me ask, can we not have some of this brightness 
here — the brightness of large green spaces for our brick- 
and-mortar-imprisoned poor, the brightness of public 
bands of music for those in whose lives little music enters, 
and at least the cleanness of well-paved streets for those 
who find the streets their only home ? Why not, do I ask ? 
Why, simply because the money is continually being 
diverted. From New York to California, from Maine to 
Oregon, in every paper one takes up, fraud, fraud, meets 
the eye— fraud in high places, fraud in low; fraud in the 
ermine as well as fraud in the cell; fraud in the names of 
rings and of trusts that control and put up in price 
everything that you use — rings in wheat that make your 
bread dearer, rings in beef that makes your muscle hard, 
rings in coal in the depth of arctic winters, rings in the oil 
that lights you on your way, rings in the very coffins that 
finally you are buried in. We are fairly ringboned with 
corruption through and throughout, and no country has 
tolerated it, nay, encouraged it, as it has been encouraged 
here. But some say we have no noblemen above us, as 
they have in Europe. Alas ! is the day of bosses passed ? 
We have no ‘ noblemen ’ above us in the ordinary sense 
of the word, but titles have lost their political significance 


298 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

in most European countries, and are little more than 
names. Consequently, the difference between the people 
who rule us here, and those who rule in Europe, is but 
nominal, imaginary, a fiction. 

“ Perhaps some will say, at least the poor man here has 
equality with his master before the law. All I will reply 
is, he had better go to Albany, where our laws are made, 
and try the issue with some railroad lobbyist. On the 
contrary, there is less ‘ equality ’ before the laws for the 
poor man here than almost anywhere else, for the simple 
reason that our legal proceedings are so long drawn out, 
and offer, too, such advantage to the clever — that is, the 
most expensive — lawyer, that recourse to law, for the 
poor man, is daily becoming more impossible. Indeed, 
barring his wages, with which the government has nothing 
to do, and which is more than compensated for by greater 
cost of living, I will venture to say that the government 
here gives him less for his money than any other govern- 
ment raised above that of the Hottentots. 

“ For the indirect tax he pays on everything, from his 
shoes, his clothes, his liquor, down to the nails in his 
coffin — yes, down to the direct tax he has to pay for his 
burial — he scarcely gets a well-paved street in which he 
can walk with his wife, in any city, from the Atlantic to 
the Pacific. For the enormous tax he indirectly pays in 
high rent, through the undue assessment of city property, 
he scarcely gets a park for his children to play in that 
is not a hole for malaria like the Central. Forced into 
narrow alley-ways, his children seek their amusement 
about the festering garbage pile, and are sickened by the 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 299 

rotting carrion that their father has paid so dearly, by 
expensive lodgings, to have removed from the streets, 

“ I have dwelt more particularly on cities, so as to bring 
my remarks more home to you. Besides, we are a nation 
of cities, in a way, that no other people can understand. 
Turn, however, to the country districts ; what do you 
see ? We are no longer a body of small and independent 
landholders, for, at a low computation, two-thirds of our 
farms are mortgaged. Further than this, while we send 
over money to break up the system of landlord and 
tenant in Ireland, behold, we have 265,408 more tenants 
paying rent to landlords in the United States of America 
than in England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales united. 

“And how do your guardians meet this situation ? They 
prate about Washington and Jefferson, and the glorious 
Fourth of July. Why, Washington and Jefferson died a 
hundred years ago. The issues that existed then have 
changed. Not o-rations, but meat-rations, are the living, 
burning questions of to-day ; not fire-crackers, but flour 
crackers. 

‘‘It is to change a condition of affairs that has become 
intolerable that the revolutionary party was organized. 
Now, my friends, this is the evening of the formal union 
between the two great divisions of this party. It is nec- 
essary that an example should be given you of the danger 
of breaking the oaths you will be called upon to make. 
It is also essential that we should be all bound together 
by a danger that will be common to us all. The chair- 
man of this society has refused to assume the responsi- 
bility himself of ridding us of this man’s interference. 


300 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


and has preferred to throw it on your shoulders. None 
of you seem ready to assume that responsibility. Very 
well, I will assume it for you. My name is Spies. Nine 
months ago, the night before my husband mounted the 
scaffold in Chicago, he gave me this.” And she re- 
moved a jewel-mounted dirk from the bosom of her dress. 
“ ‘ Keep it,’ he said, ‘ till the occasion requires its use, and 
then sink it in the breast of that man, whether innocent 
or guilty, whose blood will most advance the interest of 
the cause.’ I have kept it until now, and now will I fol- 
low out his dictates. Audacity, and still more audacity, 
and yet again audacity is the watchword of our creed.” 


LII. 


So perfect was Edna’s impersonation of the well known 
young widow of the Chicago Anarchist, that I doubted 
whether there was a single person in the audience that so 
much as suspected her to be otherwise than she claimed. 
All human assemblages, however, of whatever nature they 
may be, whether legislative or other, always divide into 
two parts, the one conservative, the other progressive. 
The gathering may seem the most radical in its instincts 
that is possible, but there will always arise an “ opposite 
wing” which will appear conservative by contrast. It 
was so in the present case, for I could see that while one 
portion of the audience sympathized with, the other 
dreaded, if not opposed, the contemplated act. Women 
clung to women, and men rose to their feet. 

When it was palpable that her threat was not made in 
mere bravado, this difference became accentuated. While 
one side cheered her on, the other tried to retard her with 
murmurs of disapproval. 

I have always believed, too, that the most dramatic sit- 
uations have an element of the ludicrous. Perhaps it is 
that the mind, being highly strained, is more apt to ac- 
cept as a relief any circumstance that offers an opportuni- 
ty to break the tension. 


301 


302 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


She had advanced to the stage, and was about to mount 
it, when a great brawny man, in a red flannel shirt and a 
strongly marked Hibernian face, jumped ahead of her and 
barred her passage. 

“ Frinds, brothers, and ladies,” he said, “ I’ve listened 
to this yere talk about socialism and arnica till it’s about 
soured on me stomach. I may be a dinimiter, but it is 
only the honorable imployment of dinimite and sich as is 
in use amongst gintlemen that I favor. I don’t moind a 
shindy wid the police or any one else, if the thruth must 
be told, and O’ill be the last to put on me coat atther a 
foight, be it wid frinds or foes. But when it comes to 
stabbin’ a man as is toid down and can’t strike back, 
sez I, that’s murther, and any one as is goin’ to troy 
it must walk over the body of Patherick McGordy first.” 

The exact circumstance that precipitated matters was 
this, at least as well as I could distinguish: A man, short 
and stumpy, whom, in spite of his workman’s clothes and 
a long false beard, I instantly recognized as Doctor Henry, 
hurried to the front and tried to push the Irishman aside 
so as to permit of Edna’s passing. He whispered some- 
thing in his ear, as he did so, the import of which was 
alone to be inferred by the expostulations of the Irish- 
man. 

“Oh! it’s only in the intherest of scoience, is it ?” he ejac- 
ulated. “An’ she can’t really hurt him, because you’ll 
intherfare in toime ? Begorry, it’s the roight toime now 
to intherfare. and if its scoience you’re so fond of O’ill 
give yez a touch of a koind that’s in practice down in the 
Sixth Warrud.” 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO, 


303 


Whereupon the speaker’s ponderous fist fell full upon 
the doctor’s face. 

The scene that followed beggars all description. In an 
instant the room was in an uproar. Then, with a shout 
of “ Frinds of Ould Oireland, rally to the riscue and 
Divil take the hindmost!” the son of Erin seized the 
bench on which he had been lately seated, leaped to the 
stage, and, placing himself before me, with admirable im- 
partiality swept down friends and foes alike as they tried 
to gain a footing beside him, either to assist him or to pull 
him down. 

In the confusion I saw Dr. Henry rise and draw Edna 
away, and only just in time, for the tide of battle was not 
confined to immediately in front of the stage, but extend- 
ed back into the room. Besides, as it ebbed and flowed 
hither and thither there would seem to be three, nay, four, 
factions all fighting — the Anarchists, the Socialists, some 
half dozen Irishmen, and the captain of Erin fighting 
them all. Even this distinction of parties before long 
was lost, and at last but one grand principle reigned su- 
preme — namely, for every one to hit every head that was 
the nearest. Such dust and confusion, such a medley of 
different cries and noises I — which last, however, could be 
explained by the mixture of nationalities engaged in the 
fight. Shrieks of women and curses of men, in every 
known language, blending in with the sharp crack of re- 
volvers and the thuds of the falling, while rising high over 
all would every now and then be heard the loud vocifera- ^ 
tion of “To hell with Arnica and chape Oitalian labor !” 
followed by “Frinds of Oireland, rally to the call!” 


3^4 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


then down would come the bench again upon the heads of 
those struggling up to answer. 

The stage had long been cleared by the sweep of the 
terrible weapon of all upon it but myself and my cham- 
pion, when, as if desirous of fresh conquest, he descended 
into the body of the house. At the very moment that he 
did so the doors opened, and supposably those who had 
served as sentries down below burst in, crying out, “ The 
cops!" 

What followed after this passes like the troubled views 
of a kaleidoscope before my eyes, but I will endeavor to 
give the incidents as accurately as I can. I was just 
looking at the struggling mass before me, which, so far 
from desisting from the contest at the warning they had 
received, appeared to have redoubled their fury, when I 
detected a man separating himself from the combatants 
and stealthily approaching the stage. The moment my 
eyes fell upon him I recognized him as the organ-grinder 
who had cursed me at Mr. Crummels’ gate. How he had 
escaped my observation up to now I do not know, but he 
had a long knife in his hand, and the blood trickling from 
it showed me that during the melee it had not been idle. 
He climbed to the stage with the same stealthy air, and 
when he got about ten feet from me he stopped. “Ha! 
ha!" he said, ‘‘ze cops is coming, is they ? But zey vont 
save you dees time, for if ze voman deedn’t strike, Bap- 
tiste Diavolo vill. Ha ! ha ! you set ze dog on Baptiste; 
veil, Baptiste pizen ze dog. Baptiste vill now fix ze mas- 
ter." 

There was a wicked leer on his face, a hideous glitter 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


305 


in his eye, that assured me that he would be held back 
by no feeling of compunction. “ Vone!” and he made a 
significant gesture, as if to sharpen his knife on his coat 
sleeve. Two!'’ and he raised it up aloft. Tree!” and 
he was in the act of springing at me like a serpent when 
a report rang out clear and distinct and he tumbled, 
a confused mass, at my feet. I turned my head as 
well as my bonds would admit, and beheld my own 
shadow, the living reflection of myself, my Alter Ego, 
in a cavalier hat, and with a smoking pistol in his hand, 
advancing towards me through the crowd. He had en- 
tered the loft from the door behind them, and alongside 
of him was Theophilus, perfectly beside himself with ex- 
citement. After these two came a file of bluecoats, with 
their buttons gleaming brightly in the light. With the 
precision that actuates a trained force, they filed right 
and left through the loft with their pistols drawn, while 
the people, at last realizing their danger, stood stock-still 
for an instant, and then like frightened sheep fled before 
them. Such a sudden stampede of ruffians could scarce- 
ly be imagined. In their blind terror they actually 
knocked their heads, like birds, against the wall as they 
rushed down to the other end of the room, and then, re- 
bounding back, rushed to the windows, entirely oblivious of 
the height from the ground, trampling down each other 
in their frantic efforts, till at last men and women were all 
huddled together in a heap on the floor, a palpitating, 
writhing mass of inhuman humanity. Only one, and she 
a woman, retained a vestige of courage, and rising from 
the floor, Edna, my wife, my self-ordaihed executioner, 


3o6 the romance of an alter ego. 

majestic in her fury, gazed with glaring eyeballs on the 
intruders. 

I learned afterwards that she had escaped from Dr, 
Henry and had returned to the scene of confusion just 
before the arrival of the police, when my attention was 
taken up with the organ-grinder. Be that as it may, she 
was h-ere again and stood pressing one foot on my valiant 
champion, the Irishman, who had fallen with a knife-thrust 
in his back. Then, as I stared at her, the stranger with 
the cavalier-like hat advanced to my side and cut my 
straps. 

“ Well, old boy !” he exclaimed in a matter-of-fact tone, 
“ so I’ve found you in the nick of time — Henry Simoni, 
very much at your service, whom you would consider as 
dead.” 

A crash, followed by a loud explosion, interrupted my 
reply. “Good God!” he cried, “she has fired the 
place.” 

It was too true. As Samson pulled down the temple 
on himself and foes, Edna, true to her assumed char- 
acter, had seized with all her force the bench the poor 
man at her feet had used in my defense, and, raising it 
aloft, had struck down the oil chandelier at one blow. 
The entire room was now aflame, the burning oil, because 
of the unevenness of the floor, however, running down 
principally to one side and setting fire, as the flames leap- 
ed up, to the bunting and the cheap flags decorating the 
walls. Then, as my deliverer put his arm around my 
waist and tried to drag me with him, a great horror seized 
me — a horror that nothing I had gone through could near 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


3<^7 


approach ; a horror greater than I had experienced on 
recognizing Edna; a horror greater than that caused by 
the smoke and the flames, and the agonized shrieks of the 
terrified people about me. 

“If you are Henry Simoni,” I cried, “leave me here 
otherwise Edna Dalzelle will have twin brothers for hus- 
bands.” 


LIII. 


How ttie people got out of that burning building is a 
mystery only to be solved by the presence of a force 
of men who, when it comes to a case of action, justly 
deserve the title of the “ Finest.” As it was after- 
wards explained to me, my brother and Dr. Henry res- 
cued Edna, while the police were obliged literally to club 
the rest out and down the stairs before them — a feat that 
would have been attended with even greater difficulty had 
the fire not been confined to the top story of the building, 
leaving the stairways fjr some time intact. Thus not only 
the women but the wounded were rescued, and if there 
were any killed I could never learn it. 

Some one — exactly who I was too much confused to re- 
member — assisted me out uf the house and deposited me 
in a carriage ; but as we started off, and my eye caught 
sight for the first time of th<". signboard over the door of my 
late prison, I was not too dazed to reflect, as the flames 
lighted it up, how suitable was the designation “The 
House of Blazes.” Though 1 neither knew nor cared 
whither I was being taken, I shall never forget the drive. 
The people were crowding out to the Flats to see the fire, 
and the light fell upon their hungry, inquisitive faces. As 
we left the suburbs and entered the labyrinth of built-up 
streets, it was more the sufferings, however, of the people 

308 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


309 


that struck me; for the air, besides being insufferably hot, 
was heavily charged with electricity and had that dense, 
closeness that precedes a thunderstorm. It seemed 
to weigh you down and to oppress you, and the windows 
and doorways of the lofty tenements were fairly thronged 
with humanity gasping for breath. Many had taken 
their bidding to the roof tops, and even the sheds over 
the sidewalks were packed — men, women, and children, 
>nly partially dressed, and in that frightful and hetero- 
genous crowding to which the poor in our great cities are 
subjected, giving the lie to our boasted civilization, and 
gradually blotting out manhood, womanhood, ay, human- 
ity in those whom civilization ought to raise. 

Had not Edna, struck off some sparks of truth ? 
Where was the equality we talk so much of here ? Ay, 
go to Albany and ask ! “ Forced into narrow alleyways, 

your children seek amusement about the festering gar- 
bage pile, and are sickened by the rotting carrion you 
have so dearly paid to have removed.” 

Every alley reeked with filth, with putrefaction, with 
degradation, and pallid faces glared vindictively at seeing 
a carriage passing there. Indeed, owing to the strikes 
and the consequent number of unemployed, the highways 
were more than ordinarily crowded, and as I thought of 
the lateness of the hour, I recalled her statement about 
the people who found the streets their only home. 

Brought up on the plains, far away from cities, I was 
uaused to such sights, and they rendered logical, I thought, 
the circumstances which I had so lately witnessed. 

By the time we reached the ferry— for I now saw we 


310 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


were journeying to New York — the closeness was actually 
intolerable, and I asked my companion to assist me to the 
deck, and we walked forward. At the moment we reach- 
ed the front part of the boat and faced New York, a flash 
of lightning, followed by a peal of thunder, shook the 
vessel till I thought she was struck. For an instant the 
whole city stood out in bold relief like a golden picture 
in the sunlight — all, everything, brought out, down to 
the minutest detail : her church steeples raising their 
fingers to God, her halls of justice and her temples of 
trade, her palaces, her lofty buildings — ay, and her 
prisons. Then all was black again. Looking backwards, 
however, just beyond the Statue of Liberty, there was still 
a red glow from the burning building, and in this lurid 
lettering written across the sky I read a warning I will 
not farther emphasize. 


LIV. 


I HAVE said that I am particularly sensitive to narcotics 
and to this I think is due the fact that many of the cir- 
cumstances related in the past chapter, though noticed 
with sufficient accuracy to be remembered afterwards, 
failed to make at the time the impression on me that 
they otherwise might. But my sensibilities and my 
senses, except sight and hearing, were benumbed, and 
while Edna’s sudden appearance was a prominent factor 
in my trying ordeal, the dramatic situation was only 
recognized at its true worth later on. 

That she had taken a character so foreign to her na- 
ture failed to strike me with full force when she was before 
me, nor did I then appreciate how strange it was that 
she should have been able to discuss subjects I had 
no reason to suppose she was otherwise than com- 
pletely ignorant of. My explanation of this last phenom- 
enon is that every item that she had ever gleaned from 
the public journals, every fact that she had ever heard 
in conversation touching the subject of public griev- 
ance, though forgotten, had been unconsciously assimi- 
late 1 and rushed to her lips with the character she had 
been made to assume. 

To return to myself, I had braced up, so to speak, 
during the terrible scene of which I had been the central 

311 


312 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


figure; yet when it was over I reverted to my previous 
lethargy, becoming, in fact, unconscious soon after reach- 
ing New York. For nearly sixty hours I lay in this con- 
dition, but when I opened my eyes my mind was clear as 
crystal. Indeed, the past in all its details was before me 
as fresh and vivid as if reflected in a mirror, or, to carry 
out the simile, my mind was like a mirror that had just 
been freed from a thick incrustation of dust. I found 
myself lying in my brother’s quarters, and even remem- 
bered now having been brought here direct. He was at a 
table writing, and he wore a look of deep, impenetrable 
sadness. I recalled my words to him at the time of our 
meeting, and I attributed his expression to the realization 
of the unhallowed position we bore to each other as the 
husbands of the same woman. At last he looked up and 
caught my eye. He put down his pen, and, coming over 
to the side of the bed, took a seat near me. 

“ I have been writing a statement for your lawyer,” he 
said very gravely, after having congratulated me on com- 
ing to. “ When you are sufficiently restored to health I 
will read it to you, and it will explain everything that is 
yet shrouded in mystery.” 

I appreciated his delicacy: there are some things that 
defy expression in language. 

“ But how was it you thought me dead ?” And he 
looked up wistfully. 

“After the battle of White Bluffs,” I answered, “we 
read in the list of killed the name of Henry Simmons. 
We naturally inferred it to be you, as the regiment was 
the same we heard you had joined. We supposed, ip the 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 3I3 

hurry and confusion of taking down the names, the ‘ s ’ at 
the end had been intended for an ‘i,’ and our impression 
was confirmed by the fact that you never returned or 
wrote to contradict it.” 

“ I was captured and unable to communicate with you. 
Now that I remember, there 7vas a young fellow in my 
regiment named Henry Simmons whom I saw shot down 
before my eyes. Tell me, however: I learned when I 
returned home that my father was dead, but how was it 
that I could get no tidings of either you or my mother ?” 

She remarried, and I moved with her to her second 
husband’s home in Vermont.” 

“ I see; and through her change of name I was unable 
to trace her. Now, there is one fact that I consider it 
only due to myself to inform you of at the earliest 
moment, and, if you are sufficiently strong to hear it, I 
will tell you now. The rest can wait your complete re- 
covery. What I wish to state affects our position as re- 
gards Edna Dalzelle.” 

He winced as he spoke her name, and I on my part felt 
a shiver pass over me that was impossible for me to con- 
ceal. 

“ My desertion of her was not voluntary,” he continued, 
and thereupon he briefly outlined his own abduction. 
“ During the voyage to Valparaiso I had time to weigh 
my conduct calmly, and I realized at last that it was 
open to severe condemnation. On my arrival, therefore, 

I wrote to my wife the full particulars of my abduction, 
and told her besides that after due consideration I re- 
proached myself for having induced her to marry me be- 


314 


THE ROMA.NCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


fore she could have had time to feel assured of her own 
mind. I told her in addition that, although I was well 
born, I had sunk to a social position inferior to her own, 
and that I had here an opportunity to begin the world 
afresh; that if her affections were really engaged, I 
would work my way home to her and bring her back 
with me, trusting to luck to find the place I had secured 
still open to me. Under no circumstances, however, 
would I be dependent on her father’s charity. If this 
proposal did not meet her approval, she might take 
advantage of our separation as a definite parting. The 
ceremony was clandestine ; it had not been consum- 
mated by even one night of married life; and, further, 

I wrote her that on applying to the American Minis- 
ter, who happened to have been a Rhode Island law- 
yer, he assured me that there would be a grave question 
of doubt whether our marriage was strictly a legal one.” 

“ Not legal!” I cried, rising from my bed. 

“ No, because the laws of Rhode Island expressly and 
emphatically state that the person who performs the cere- 
mony must be a clergyman domiciled in that particular 
State, whereas the man that had married us was a resident 
of New York, a guest at the Ocean House where we were 
both stopping.” 

I wiped the perspiration off my brow with the cuff of 
my pajama. 

“ I advised her, therefore, if she was not prepared to 
accept the vicissitudes of a poor man’s life, that she had 
better let the matter drop, and she would never hear from 
me again I never felt so utterly heart-broken as when I 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 315 

mailed that letter. But I could not bear to have her feel 
herself tied to a man in my condition. I wished to give 
her a loophole of escape, as I knew I had made her act 
with inordinai^ haste. Never receiving any reply, I con- 
cluded she had deemed it better to forego the sacri- 
fice.” 

“ Then you make no claim upon her ?” I cried in great 
joy. “ She is mine! Your marriage with her being illegal, 
she is mine 1 mine ! mine 1” And I threw my arms about 
his neck in an agony of relief. 

Sadly he disengaged my arms. “And after your last 
meeting with her, are your feelings towards her still the 
same ?” 

“ They are intensified,” I answered. “ It shows me how 
much she needs a protector.” 

“ I fear she then is destined for neither of us,” he an- 
swered, as he turned away his head. 

His manner terrified me. 

“ What do you mean ?” I cried. 

Seeing him still hesitate, a great, chill shadow fell 
athwart me. 

“Tell me what it is — tell me, man, at once!” And I 
shook his shoulder violently. 

“ I can’t ! I can’t !” he cried, and he sank his head in 
his hands. 

But I insist ! Is she not well ? Is she — is 
she — ” 

The pitying expression of his face, as he looked up, 
gave the reply my lips refused to form. 

I was already pulling on my clothes with trembling 


3i6 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


hands, tearing a shirt from end to end as I tried to get it 
over my head. I would go to her at once. 

I rang the bell violently, and ordered a carriage. 

At last I was ready. 

“ Now,-’ I said, “you may as well tell me all.’* 

“She has gone, I fear, to a land,” he replied solemnly, 
“ where there’s neither marrying nor giving in marriage.” 


LV. 


Have you ever walked tj^rough the lines of wounded 
after a battle ? If so, you may have remarked that the 
cries of anguish and the writhing of pain rather indicate the 
less severely hurt. Where the blow is fatal, a deep calm 
indicative of the grave takes possession of the injured. 

So it is with the spiritually afflicted. 

I was perfectly calm, and, though I rose from a sick- 
bed, I walked down-stairs and entered the carriage with- 
out any assistance, assisting rather my brother, who ap- 
peared thoroughly prostrated. 

On our drive to her residence I even persuaded him to 
enter into fuller particulars, heroically trying to relieve 
his distress by making him talk. 

Thereupon he explained how, on the morning of his 
arrival here after stopping at Mr. Slocum’s, he had pro- 
ceeded to Mr. Dalzelle’s. 

Being advised by the porter to go up-stairs, I did so, 
and was confronted with your — with my wife. Tell me 
once more, did you love this woman?” he stopped to in- 
quire. “ I mean, did you love her as you never loved 
woman before?” 

“ I loved her better than my own life,” I answered. “ I 
loved her in a way that the greatest boon I could ask of 
Almighty God would be to change places with her now.” 
317 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


318 


Then I ought not to tell you.” 

“ Tell me all ; tell me what she said to you at that 
meeting.” 

“ Well, perhaps it is best. It will lighten your loss. 
She fell into my arms,” he continued, but with an expres - 
sion on his face I shall never forget; ‘‘she told me she 
loved me alone, and that all^e time I had been away 
had seemed a hideous nightmare to her. She begged me 
to take her with me and to save her from you.” 

“ Enough !” I cried. “We are here.” 

We had indeed arrived at our destination, but my 
brother declined to accompany me. I ascended the 
stairs alone, therefore, and as I went up each flight 
seemed a separate stage, so to speak, of my own life — the 
first my infancy, the next my boyhood, the third my 
youth, my manhood, and my great despair. What was 
life, after all ? A stairway to be climbed with infinite toil, 
and leading whither ? To think that now, now when I 
had the right to possess her, now when she was relieved 
of the bonds that held her to another, the demon called 
God came in to wrest her from my grasp ! I crouched 
down almost on my knees, not to pray, but to bring my- 
self so low on the stairs that I could not look over the 
banisters ; crowding close to the wall, away from that great 
temptation, I crept onwards, upwards, nearer the woman 
who, though dead, was my life. 

On being admitted into the sick-room I closed the door 
behind carefully, jealous even of the breeze that might 
come and disturb her sanctuary. There she lay as I had 
once before seen her lying, the beautiful hands crossed 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


319 

and folded upon the breast, and an expression of beati- 
tude on her countenance. Great God ! What becomes of 
the spirit that is in humanity ? There she lay, weighing the 
same, occupying the same space as ever, but the anima- 
tion, the spirit, the humor, the sparkle, the brightness, the 
life — where were they ? Were those lips never to smile 
again ? Were those eyes never to light up, were they never 
to weep again, nor those- lips to speak? O ye gods! 
It was too hard, hard! And I threw myself on my 
knees before her and wept and wept again. 

By her side was her father. He gave neither sign of 
recognition nor sympathy, and moving about the room 
was the same Sister of Charity I had seen there once be- 
fore. 

I hurried out of the room, quite unable to bear the 
sight. On reaching the hall I was unexpectedly con- 
fronted by Dr. Henry coming in. 

I could have throttled him, but, resisting the temptation 
I took him by the arm and demanded an explanation of 
his extraordinary conduct. He was disconcerted, but 
by dint of much persistency I gained from him the fol- 
lowing particulars ; That Edna, after her first interview 
with my brother, had flown to Rebecca for consolation 
and advice, as she had been in the habit of doing when 
in any trouble. That Rebecca had elicited from her 
the full story, and, finally soothing her distress had 
sent her up-stairs to the room she usually occupied when 
under her roof. That he, the professor, happened to be 
on the premises during Edna’s visit, talking with Rebecca 
about her bail, and that after Edna’s departure to her 


320 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


room Rebecca had admitted knowing where I was con- 
fined. She, however, refused to raise her finger in my 
behalf. That her information suggested to the professor 
the idea of the Spies woman as a means of rescuing me 
and at the same time as a final test of the power of mes- 
merism. “ For to persuade a woman,” went on the doc- 
tor, ^‘into the necessity of killing hbr husband for the 
sake of a cause to which she only imagined she belonged 
would be the crowning achievement of my investigations. 
I therefore persuaded Rebecca to assist in the experiment 
and to furnish us with the proper passwords.” 

“But how was I to be rescued ?” I asked, astounded 
by the cool complacency of the man. 

“ Why, simply, I intended stepping over to the Jersey 
City police department and getting them to send around a 
file of men to wait outside the building till I made a signal 
from the window.” 

“ Then I have to thank you for my liberation, at all 
events.” 

“ Well, hardly. You see I found myself behind-time, 
and I scarcely thought it right to risk the experiment for 
a little matter of detail. I trusted to luck to get you out 
of your fix unassisted. As your brother has subsequently 
told me, he had got wind of my intentions and actually 
drove Edna and myself over to Jersey City. On deposit- 
ing us at our destination, he galloped his horses around 
to the nearest police station and secured the men with 
whom he broke up the meeting. Fortunately, owing to 
the delay in procuring them, the experiment was in every 
way satisfactory.” 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


321 


I looked at him in wonder. Was ever devotion to 
science so perverted ? 

“ But Edna !” I at last ejaculated. 

“Ah, Edna, poor girl! Well, you see, the excitement 
of her hurried waking, or the terror at the fire, was too 
much for her. Your brother and myself got her out of 
the burning building and brought her home, but she has 
never spoken since her arrival here.” 

“ Has Rebecca seen her ?” I asked bluntly. 

“ She has been here several times, but could do nothing. 
I also thought it well to call in the family physician, with 
the only result of a collision between them on the subject 
of professional etiquette.” 

“ Would you mind going for Rebecca and getting her 
to come around again ?” 

“ Certainly not, but it can be no use.” 

** My brother is down-stairs. Send him up to me and 
take his carriage to fetch her.” 


LVI. 


Dr. Henry descended, and a few moments later I was 
joined by my new-found relative. We sat down together 
on the landing and silently awaited Rebecca’s coming. 
At the end of half an hour I heard her heavily mounting 
the stairs and remonstrating with the professor as to the 
uselessness of her mission. 

When she arrived where we were, we rose to meet her. 
Though she must have been prepared to find me here, 
she scarcely deigned to cast on me a glance. All her 
attention seemed concentrated on my brother. And 
the more she looked the more he seemed to attract 
her. 

So you’ve got the power, too,” she cried. i can ten 
it by your expression.” 

“ What power?” he asked. 

“ Why, mesmerism. Did you ever learn it?” 

He hesitated from surprise. 

“ Down in South America the Indian doctors frequently 
employ what I suppose you might call mesmerism on 
their patients. One of them, to whom I did a trifling 
service in the mines, taught me the trick.” 

“ Have you ever practiced it ?” 

Again he hesitated. “ Occasionally,” he at last replied. 

“Tell me exactly what occurred after you brought- 
322 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


323 


this young woman out of the burning building as I heard 
you did.” 

“ I deposited her in a carriage. She was hysterical and 
I tried to calm her.” 

“ By making any passes over her?” 

I may have.” 

“ Then you mesmerized her. Did you thinl to jring 
her back by reverse passes ?” 

“ I don’t believe I ever thought of mesmerism. Once 
having quieted her, I left her at home supposing that 
she would soon come to of herself.” 

“ Then there is a chance to save her even yet ; not a 
very good chance, but one in a million, for it is just 
within the bounds of possibility that the condition you 
threw her into resembles catalepsy, and that no one besides 
yourself can bring her out of it.” 

. “Impossible! It is contrary to all the cases I have 
ever heard. A person that was mesmerized, even if not 
brought to by the mesmerizer, would simply sleep off the 
effects, as in the case of wine or opium. I have seen such 
cases a dozen times, when the Indian doctor of whom I 
spoke mesmerized a patient to perform some trifling 
operation, or to relieve pain generally.” 

“ It is not impossible, for there are three such cases on 
record : one in the Paris hospitals— Henrietta Defoy — 
another in New York, and one in Chicago. Indeed, if 
you come to that, my own experience with this sweet girl 
might make a fourth; for though she had not been in it 
so long, the reg’lars were unable to get her out of it and 
I had to be called in again. Indeed, if the truth was ever 


324 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


known, I believe more than one case of so-called 
trance, particularly when the subject was hysterical, has 
been caused by their failing under the influence of some 
other person, even unbeknownst to ’em, and who might 
bring them to if it was only suspected.” 

“ What do you want me to do, then ?” 

“ I want to see you make some passes.’* 

He did so. 

“ Try again.” 

He repeated them several times. Here and there she 
would correct him, telling him to turn his hands outwards 
a little more, or his thumbs upwards. 

“That will do,” she said at last. “And now if Pro- 
fessor Henry will go down-stairs and wait for me m the 
carriage, we can enter the chamber.” 

“ Why shouldn’t I go in, too ? In the interest of science 
I should like to see — ” 

“That for your science!” she exclaimed, snapping her 
fingers. “ You let this young girl be mesmerized without 
knowing it, and you’ve muddled everything you’ve touched. 
You’re nothing but a bungler.” 

The crestfallen professor turned on his heel and abruptly 
descended the stairs, while we re-entered the apartment, 
and she led my brother up to the bedside. 

“ Now,” she said, “ make the passes for all you’re 
worth.” 

For some ten minutes I watched him intently, hoping 
against hope. At last she went over to him, and was 
saying something in his ear, when she stopped suddenly. 

“Great God! here comes the reg’lars,” she cried aloud. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


325 

I looked up and perceived a gentleman of grave, not to 
say pompous, mien entering the chamber, accompanied by 
a young man of intelligent but ascetic appearance. 

“ I feared we would find her here,” the elder declared, 
with a cynical curl of the lip, and he addressed his partner. 
“You see it was well we returned.” 

“ Now, my good woman, may I ask you once more, and 
for the last time, to retire ?” he continued. 

“ Doctor,” she replied, with a greater control over her- 
self than I could have looked for, “ tell me whether you 
are perfectly certain this is not a trance.” 

I am ready to sign the certificate of decease,” he re- 
plied in the same supercilious tone. 

“ Then, in that case, there’s no harm in our trying what 
can be done.” 

“I returned with Mr. Smith, my assistant,” he 
answered, “ to see that she suffered no desecration. My 
reputation suffers from being in any manner mixed up 
with one the faculty,” he added with a low bow, “fails to 
recognize.” 

During the above colloquy I had stood between the 
bedside and the new-comers, shocked beyond expression 
by the controversy, yet relying with a wild, inordinate hope 
on the female physician. At last she turned upon them. 

“You gave her up once to save your professional repu- 
tation. We're going to try and see if you ain’t mistaken 
a second time. If there is any one here who has the right 
to refuse us permission, I will retire.” 

I looked over towards Mr. Dalzelle, whose stupor was 
too deep to permit his understanding what was going on. 


326 THE ROMANCE OP AN ALTER EGO. 

“I assume the responsibility. You shall stay/’ I ex- 
claimed. “ Do what you can. These gentlemen shall in 
no wise disturb you.’" 

“ And who are you, sir?” the elder inquired, raising his 
glasses. 

“I am her husband,” I answered. I think you will 
scarcely question my right.” 

“ Then, sir, our only course is to retire.” And he took 
his assistant by the arm. 

“ I insist upon your remaining,” I cried. This is a 
case that rises superior to professional etiquette, and we 
may need your assistance.” 

I could see that in spite of their words they were more 
anxious to prevent any tampering with the patient than to 
depart, so I placed myself in such a way before them as 
to argue that nothing short of physical force would stop 
the experiment. Indeed, my opinion is that curiosity de- 
tained them, or possibly a lingering doubt as to whether 
th^re might be any question as to the extinction of the 
vital spark. 

In the meanwhile Rebecca Seaton had drawn my bro- 
ther over again towards the bed — for he had risen — and 
had made him kneel down beside it. 

I could see the repugnance her conduct caused him and 
the hopelessness in his own mind of any success. All the 
same he began to make the passes anew, but at last, with a 
shudder, arose. 

“ It is a desecration,” he muttered. “ These gentlemen 
are right. I positively refuse to continue.” 

“ Go on for just five minutes more !” exclaimed Re- 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


327 


becca Seaton, and her voice seemed to come from a deep 
chasm,so hollow it sounded. “Just for five minutes more!” 

Reluctantly he acquiesced, and resumed his occupation, 
making the motions deliberately and slowly, though still 
with the same air of doubt. At the end of a few minutes, 
that seemed to me as many ages, he got up again ; while 
Rebecca bent over the fair form, and, lifting up the lids, 
closely examined the eyes. 

“There’s movement here. I saw them twitch. For the 
love of God, go on, go on, man ! In the name of the Al- 
mighty go on with them passes!” 

“ I can’t, I can’t!” he cried. 

At this moment the elder of the two physicians stepped 
forward, and, stooping down, closely examined the pupils of 
Edna’s eyes. There was something there that changed 
his ■ former superciliousness to doubt. He called 
over his partner and together they made a searching ex- 
amination. Suddenly the younger rose, and, grasping my 
brother by the arm, “ This is a case that certainly does 
rise superior to professional etiquette,” he cried, “and I 
insist that it be left in your hands.” 

His conduct inspired my brother with hope. I could 
tell it by the way he resumed his passes and the in- 
creasing intensity of his interest. I turned away my head, 
however, quite unable to bear the strain of my mental 
anguish. What happened after this I can hardly say. I 
remember struggling with the physicians to prevent their 
interference though now they were ready to lend their co- 
operation, and I remember imploring the nurse to keep 
quiet, though she was standing stock still. When I regained 


328 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


my senses and looked around Edna was sitting upon the 
bed. For an instant absolute quiet reigned, then with a 
loud cry the Sister of Charity fled the chamber, leaving the 
physicians and myself rooted to the floor, while over all 
towered Rebecca Seaton giving with pantomimic gestures 
a cue to my brother as to what passes he should make. 

The silence of the elder of the two physicians, however, 
was but momentary. ** In common justice to ourselves,” 
he said, turning to me, “ I must take the present occasion 
to state that this case possessed certain features that puz- 
zled us both. For this reason we hesitated signing the 
certificate of decease, and when we arrived we were just 
consulting over the advisability of a further delay.” 

In the meanwhile the subject of these remarks was star- 
ing about her with the same unconscious look. 

“ Draw yourself away from the bed,” exclaimed Rebec- 
ca to my brother; “ she will follow you.” 

Slowly Edna rose, and, with her long garments sweep- 
ing behind her, advanced towards us. 

“Now bring her more out into the middle of the room, 
if only to make her walk.” 

Slowly she followed him as he retreated before her. 

“Now talk to her — tell her anything you like; it will 
excite the action of the brain.” 

“ Ask her questions, anything; best resume the conver- 
sation you had with her when you first met her after your 
return.” 

“ But I can’t do that.” 

“ I insist! Bring her back to that period; she will take 
most naturally to it.” 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


329 


“ Do you know who I am ?” he asked. 

A vague look of uncertainty passed over her face. 

“Tell me who I am, Edna.” 

“ You are he — he — ” she answered, as if trying to place 
him. 

“ I am he to whom you plighted your faith,” he answer- 
ed. “ Your long-lost husband, who deserted you through 
no fault of your own.” 

She partly opened her lips as she continued to stare at 
him, while I stared at them both, feeling as I have no lan- 
guage to portray. 

“ Tell me that you know me ?” he continued. 

An expression of recognition lighted up for the first time 
in her eyes. 

“ Now anything you say to her she will believe,” cried 
Rebecca. 

For an instant he took deep counsel within himself, keep- 
ing his eye, the while, fixed on the patient, then in a voice 
that, while not loud, was clear and distinct “ Edna, 
though you think I am your husband, you are mis- 
taken. I married you, indeed, but the form was not 
legal; therefore I am only your mock husband and your 
affection on me is wasted. There is your real husband,” 
pointing to me. “ He loves you in a way no other man 
can.” She looked about her vaguely till her eye caught 
mine. “See,” he continued, “his arms are stretched 
towards you; you must love him in return. All the affec- 
tion you have wasted on me give to him; yield him that 
reverence he deserves. “ 

She came towards me. Then in a louder tone : 


330 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


** I transfer the affection you have for me to him; love, 
honor, and obey him for the rest of your life.” 

► She had thrown herself upon my neck and my arms en- 
circled her. 

Open the door very gently, some one,” whispered Re- 
becca. “Draw back near the door," she whispered to 
me. “Now be ready to go out,” she whispered to my 
brother, “ and just before you leave, touch your thumb 
lightly on her forehead, and then loudly clap your hands.” 

I retreated gently as she clung to my neck. I saw my 
brother prepare to leave the apartment ; then, touching 
her an instant on the forehead, he moved to the exit, and, 
clapping his hands, was gone. 

As for her, she was sobbing on my shoulder, and my 
arms clasped her waist. 


It would be unjust to the reputation of an honorable 
man did I not add that on the departure of my brother 
the elder of the two physicians came forward and frankly 
extended his hand to Rebecca. 

“You have taught the faculty a lesson, madam,” he 
exclaimed, “ that is well for it to learn — namely, that pro- 
fessional etiquette may be carried too far. I must con- 
fess, however, that in all my experience — and it is some- 
what extended — that I have never encountered a similar 
case to*this. I have heard of such cases without believing 
in them, and I am now obliged to admit that the physi- 
cian’s education will hardly be complete till the study of 
mesmerism is included in his curriculum.” 


LVII. 


The next morning I received the following communi- 
cation from Henry Simoni ; 

My Dear Brother : 

I inclose at the end of this a couple of documents, one 
of which will go far to show that mistakes in identity are 
not unusual, and the other will assist in explaining the de- 
position I made at the request of your lawyer. On second 
thoughts 1 have decided to take my departure without 
waiting to bid you good-by. My object is to relieve you 
of a personality that has caused you so much embarrass- 
ment, but which I trust has been atoned for by one great 
service. May you be happy, and if you are ever in want, 
or inclined to travel, a home always awaits you in the land 
of flowers. That you may find in Edna the happiness 
your numerous vicissitudes warrant is the wish of your 
devoted brother to command, Henry Simoni. 

The first document to which he alluded was a cutting 
from the New York World of last August i6th. I give 
it in full below : 

^‘CRAZED BY HIS MISFORTUNE.” 

PORTER, MURDERER PARTIN’S DOUBLE, NOW A WANDERING MANIAC. 

The Good News that his Innocence would be proved came Too Late^ 
and his Mind Gave Way under the Fearful Strain — His Fatal Re- 
semblance to the Desperate North Carolina Murderer, 

[special to the world,] 

Raleigh, N. C., Aug. 15. — Rarely has such a sad case 
of mistaken identity, resulting in the unjust prosecution 

331 


332 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


of an innocent man, been revealed as was made plain to 
the citizens of Raleigh when the World reached here 
yesterday and demonstrated beyond a doubt that Robert . 
Leeson Porter is the victim of a strange resemblance to 
Scott Partin, a desperate murderer. It was in the 
World's exclusive cable dispatch that the details of this 
remarkable instance of a murderer’s double were first 
learned. Now that the identity of Porter has been thor- 
oughly established, the startling resemblance he bears to 
the murderer, Partin, has almost bewildered all who are 
familiar with the case. 

“ Thirteen years ago Scott Partin, living near Raleigh, 
murdered his wife and child. The police never caught 
him. A few days ago a letter was received from Porter 
by his sister in Queenstown, stating that he was under 
arrest in Raleigh, charged with being Partin, the mur- 
derer. Photographs of Partin and Porter sent to Queens- 
town showed a most remarkable resemblance between the 
men. To make the case more extraordinary, the prose- 
cuting attorney of Raleigh wrote that five distinct body 
marks on Partin, such as the loss of a middle finger, the 
location of moles and cuts, were found on the man under 
arrest. 

“ Porter’s sister lives in the family homestead a few miles 
from Cork. The family is very well known in South 
Ireland, with members in the British peerage, and is con- 
nected by marriage with Dr. Tanner, M.P. In 1873 
Robert Porter emigrated to America. Two years later 
he wrote letters to Ireland from Fort Preble, near Port- 
land, Me., saying that he was in the United States Artil- 
lery. These letters are still undestroyed, and one of them 
is dated on the day of the murder, though also marked as 
being sent from a place several hundred miles from where 
the murder was committed. 

“ The London correspondent of the World has seen 
United States Consul Platt, and the latter assures him 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


333 


that there is no doubt the writing is the same as that of 
the man imprisoned in Raleigh. The consul has verified 
every statement written by Porter since his arrest to the 
British Minister at Washington. In 1887 Porter ceased 
writing to his friends in Ireland, and his relatives believed 
him dead. He has been advertised for in vain as heir to 
land and money. The letter to his sister announcing his 
arrest was accompanied by a photograph, and his sister 
and other people who knew Porter express no doubt of 
his identity. The sister explains that the loss of his 
middle finger on one hand can easily be verified by the 
records of the War Department. Before he joined the 
United States Army he worked in Charles Flood’s piano 
factory at Halifax. 

“ Since the day of the horrible double murder in 1875 an 
almost incessant search has been kept up for Scott Partin. 
The details of the crime were well known in all parts of 
the State, and the authorities have been vigilant in many 
sections. From the moment, in June last, when two men 
saw Porter at Selma and caused his arrest, swearing be- 
fore a magistrate that he was Partin, until the present 
moment, the whole affair has awakened the most intense 
interest. It can be readily seen that when the World 
reached here this morning it was most eagerly read. 

“ It brought the news that Porter was of good family, 
was heir to property in Ireland, and had for years been 
searched for. But, strange to say, that news, instead of 
reaching Porter while in jail and bringing something of 
joy into his life, does not get here until Porter is out of 
jail and a wanderer upon the face of the earth. During 
the time Porter was in jail in this city fully 5,000 people 
saw him. Many hundreds were from the country, and of 
these not a few were willing to swear he was Scott Partin. 
Some did so who had worked beside Partin some years 
ago, and their identification of him seemed complete. 
Day after day the prisoner had to face this terrible public 
accusation, for such it was. 


334 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


“ One day the World correspondent went into the jail to 
see him. Fifty persons stood near to hear what was said. 
The interview was direct, and Porter plainly proved his 
assertion that he was a soldier. Your correspondent said 
to him : ‘ You are not Scott Partin.’ 

“‘Thank you, sir,” said Porter; ‘you do me justice.’ 

“At that moment one of the spectators, John Lee, 
said : 

“ ‘ Porter, I am from your own county in Ireland, and 
when you get out of this jail come to my house and make 
it your home.’ 

“ On July 26 last proof came here to the solicitor of this 
district, T. M. Argo, that Porter was all he claimed, and 
he was released. He had stood the intense strain of im- 
prisonment, of questioning, and of suspicion remarkably 
well up to that time. He went a free man to John Lee’s 
humble but not less hospitable home and found a 
welcome there. He stayed there day after day, waiting, he 
said, for his solicitor to obtain some funds for him with 
which he might pay his passage to Canada. Last week 
his manner changed. His mind, never strong while in 
jail, was entirely unbalanced, and he had to be watched 
constantly. He was a victim of the delusion that a mob 
of Raleigh people sought his life. Last Friday night 
John Lee left home, leaving Porter, who at that time was 
quieter than usual, in care of the woman and children. 
Suddenly Porter sprang out of the house and ran rapidlv 
towards the suburbs. He made his way to the woods 
north of the city. Lee was greatly distressed at his flight, 
but Saturday afternoon Porter turned up at Rolesville, a 
little town some ten miles north of here. He was in rags, 
half wild with fever, and very hungry. He told people 
who he was, and said his stay in jail had crazed him. He 
suddenly sprang to his feet and said : 

“‘Do you hear them after me? This morning early 
three men attacked me in the woods and tried to hang me.’ 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


335 


Porter said he was going North and wanted company 
on the road. He left Rolesville with a farmer, and yes- 
terday he turned up at Youngsville, a little station on the 
railway twenty-five miles north of here. There he told a 
pitiful story to a crowd of people. He said that people 
sought to lynch him and that a large number of Raleigh 
people who believed he was Scott Partin were on their 
way after him and would kill him on sight. Some money 
was given Porter with which to pay his way North. He 
said he wanted to get to the Virginia or Pennsylvania 
coal mines. He left there last evening. This morning 
Solicitor Argo received the following cablegram from 
Dublin, Ireland : 

“ ‘ Robert Leeson Porter is not Scott Partin. Proofs 
forthcoming. Porter is wanted as heir.' 

* ‘ The solicitor at once set to work to find the lost heir. 
Telegrams were sent to Youngsville to ascertain which 
way he had gone, and also to points in Virginia with view 
to heading him off. Lieut. Charles B. Wheeler, of the 
Second Artillery, U.S.A., has sent the following de- 
scriptive roll of Private Robert Leeson Porter : ‘ Battery 
M, Fifth Artillery ; enlisted for five years, Nov. 7, 1873, 
at Fort Preble, Me., by Lieut. Weir, Fifth Artillery ; age, 
twenty-three ; height, 5 feet inches ; complexion fair, 
eyes brown, hair brown ; born in Queensberry, Ireland ; 
occupation sailor ; deserted from battery, May 22, 1875 ; 
surrendered at Fort Preble, July 24, 1875; discharged at 
Barrancas, Fla., Dec. 30, 1877. Personal marks, scar of 
sabre cut under right shoulder.’ 

“ The local papers have republished the World's cable- 
gram, and interest in Porter’s case is very keen. To show 
how deeply the idea that he was Partin had taken hold 
on the public mind, it may be stated that many persons 
thought the authorities should never have released him 
from jail. Others, when they heard of his flight, express- 
ed belief that he was Partin and had gone to the town- 


336 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

ship where the murder was committed. They said fur- 
ther that if people in that section found him they would 
surely lynch him. At this moment, and despite over- 
whelming evidence that he is not Partin, there are people 
who believe him to be that infamous criminal. 

“ Earnest efforts are now in progress to find Porter. At 
one o’clock this afternoon a telegram was received here by 
Solicitor Argo stating that Porter was between Weldon 
and Portsmouth. He was given passage on a train from 
Youngsville to Weldon and spent last night beyond Wel- 
don. He is still traveling northward and is probably 
near the railway line. It is believed he will be found by 
to-morrow morning, as warnings have been sent to all 
places on the line of the seaboard road to be on the watch 
for him.” 

The second document to which my brother referred 
was a letter from an individual who was abducted in a 
similar fashion to that in which he was. It was a cutting 
from the Evening Telegram of June i6, which curiously 
enough was one of the journals that contained an adver- 
tisement for his own return. It proves more than my own 
words might that my tale is not extravagant. Instead of 
being drugged in a carriage, however, the victim was 
chloroformed in a tavern, whither some acquaintances 
enticed him. I pick up the story here and quote the 
paper, word for word : 

“After drinking with these men I remember nothing 
more,” says the writer, “ till I received a violent shaking 
up, accompanied by the words, ‘ Port watch on deck.’ I 
awoke, and after rubbing my eyes I discovered myself on 
board a ship ; my clothing was a mixture between a sailor 
outfit and that of a common laborer. I reeled around 
the forecastle and asked what the whole thing meant. 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


337 


A shove from the strong arm of a man, whom I after- 
wards learned was the boatswain, told me to pick myself 
up sharp and go aloft and assist in tricing the upper top- 
sail. Just imagine my surprise, coming partly to my 
senses, not knowing whether I was among those described 
in Dante’s works, or even some worse place. I asked for 
an explanation as to what it all meant; this was met with 
a loud ‘ guffaw * or laughter from the crew and boats- 
wain. They all saluted me as Brown. I said my name 
was not Brown. At this they laughed louder and longer, 
and said the old dodge would not work. I had shipped 
as A. B. and I could not shift my duty on to others ; the 
best thing I could do was to go to work at once and earn 
my ‘ bacca ’ and good rations. They would stand no 
‘ Charley Booking * on that ship, reminding me at the 
same time that a British sailor ^ may growl, but “ go ” he 
must.* 

** I asked to see the captain, a request which was prom- 
ised to be granted me ; but before I could see him I was 
taken sick, and confined to my bunk for several days, 
where I was most tenderly nursed by one of my ship- 
mates, who hung a tin of fresh water, with a drinking 
cup attached, outside my bunk. This is all the nourish- 
ment I had for two days, when at last the galley steward, 
taking compassion on me, brought me some hot coffee, 
which revived me very much. 

In the course of a few days I was able to appear before 
the ‘ old man,’ as the captain was called, and to him I 
explained my surprise at my condition and surround- 
ings, assuring him that there was some mistake, as I was 
n3 sailor and had never signed any articles as such. He 
told me I had done so, but had probably forgotten all 
about it afterwards. He showed me the articles, where 
my name was signed ‘ John Brown, A. B. [Able Bodied.]’ 
I protested, and was about to proceed with my history, 
when he surlily told me to go for’ad and attend to my 


338 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

duty, informing me that no excuses would be received. 
He said he had paid $15 as advance money on me 
and he was going to have it out of me in good solid work 
for the ship. 

“ Then I asked him for my clothes, money, and other 
articles. He looked at me in surprise and wanted to know 
if 1 didn’t want the entire ship and cargo. 

“ Bewildered was no name for my condition. However, 

I saw I was in a fix, and as I had no alternative I agreed 
to make the best I could of the situation. Later on, one 
of the passengers, who took compassion on me, told me I 
had been brought aboard the vessel stupidly drunk, and 
had been delivered to the watchman on deck as * Brown,’ 
but he had an idea I was ‘ shanghaied/ in which I agreed 
with him, seeing that I was robbed of over $500 besides 
my gold watch and clothing.” 

Now, the name of the steamer in which this Brown, 
was kidnapped, was the Strathern^ and after his letter 
follows, in the same Evening Telegram of June 16, a 
graphic picture by a sailor's boarding-housekeeper who 
was interviewed on the subject. 

Again I quote the exact words : 

“ In explaining the manner in which shanghaing is done 
on the city front,” this same boarding-house keeper says, 
“ it must be remembered that every member of a crew 
of an English out-bound vessel must appear before the 
British consul and sign articles. This done, the consul’s 
duty is complete. Now, then, for the crooked work. 
When sailors are scarce and ships are ladened and anxious 
to sail, there is a great demand for a full complement of 
hands. The shipping agents get one of their handy men 
to go before the consul and sign the article as < John 
Brown ’ or ‘ James Smith.’ Then they lie back, and if 
they can shanghai a poor devil they throw him into a 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


339 


Doat at night and deliver him to the mate or watchman as 
John Brown. That settles his goose. He has got to stay 
on board, because the captain has already paid his blood 
money for his man, and he is not going to get fooled by a 
fellow claiming that he is not the man he is represented 
to be. 

“ I have no doubt in my mind that the man you 
speak of was put aboard the Strathern last November, as 
I know they were offering as much as $6o advance for a 
crew. So much for shanghaing.” 

Attached to the end of this clipping I found a few brief 
words penciled as a postcript from my brother: 

“ One word as regards Rebecca Seaton. I am convinced 
she had no hand in your own abduction. She was aware 
of it, as well as of the exact place of your detention, for 
these sort of people, I know from experience as a detec- 
tive, have very wide connections. They have confed- 
erates in every phase of society, who keep them informed 
of what is going on, and with an exactness you would 
scarcely realize. Indeed, amongst the criminal classes, 
who are naturally superstitious, they reap their richest 
harvests, and often through their knowledge of them 
prove valuable auxiliaries to the police. Therefore, that 
she knew of your apprehension was natural. Mr. Star is 
also of the opinion that she not only knew of your ar- 
rest on suspicion of the Coney Island assassination, but 
that she was in some manner a party to it. I have, how- 
ever, given my word by implication that you would not 
inquire into this matter nor press any investigations into 
h er past or recent conduct towards Edna. When I tell 
you that your liberation was largely based on this un- 
derstanding, I feel assured that you will respect it. 

Once more, and for the last time, your devoted, 

“H. S.’» 


LVIII. 


My brother’s allusion to Mr. Star confirmed my own 
impressions. I, too, had long been convinced that Rebecca 
v^as responsible for my arrest on the charge of the Coney 
Island assassination. She had seen me on the train com- 
ing back from there, and had probably thought to involve 
me in a web from which my escape would have been dif- 
ficult. All the previous circumstances of my extraordi- 
nary history, too, would have been brought out and would 
have told against me; and though it is too extravagant to 
suppose that I could have been convicted of the crime, 
my probable incarceration and efforts to prove myself in- 
nocent would have deprived Edna of my guardicnship in 
the most effectual manner. 

That the real assassin should have been caught within 
a few hours of my arrest, and that he should have libe- 
rated me by making a full confession, was a coincidence 
which she could hardly be expected to foresee. Probably 
spite, too, rendered her prone to take the chances of my 
discomfiture. 1 knew that she disliked me, and I attrib- 
uted her dislike first to the strenuous efforts I had made to 
induce Edna to break off her intercourse with her, and, 
secondly, to the rough usage she had received at my 
hands. 

To do Rebecca justice, however, I think that her con- 
340 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


341 


nection with Edna was not entirely based on pecuniar)i 
considerations. Her power over her was so complete 
that my opinion is she actually felt a pride in its contin- 
uance, and with this pride was probably inwoven no little 
real affection. This her last conduct certainly went to 
prove, since to rescue Edna from her critical situation she 
had been compelled to sink her resentment against me 
and to present me with a bride. In behalf of this I could 
take no action against her, but would respect my brother’s 
agreement, and allow the courts, if they saw fit, to pun- 
ish her or not on the charges for which Dr Henry had 
secured her bail. 

One word more concerning Rebecca, and then I have 
done with her, I hope forever. My brother’s explana- 
tions about the wide connections a woman like her usually 
possessed with the criminal classes accounted for a circum- 
stance that had puzzled me a long time ago — namely, the 
extraordinary fact of her mentioning my brother’s name 
on my first visit to her. Because of this affiliation she 
must have been aware of his abduction, too. She proba- 
bly was familiar also with the circumstances that led to 
it, and told me just sufficient to excite my curiosity, and 
so to make me continue my calls upon her at the rate of 
two dollars each. 

I was still pondering over my brother’s letter and the 
thoughts that it suggested when a visitor was announ- 
ced. 

I raised my head and beheld Mr. Crummels. Alas! how 
selfish, how truly self-engrossed is human nature I Until 
this moment I had forgotten in my own happiness the ter- 


342 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


rible blow that I had brought on this man’s household. 
He came to cast me back to earth. 

I received him with a gentle pity and a deep commise- 
ration thac only inadequately expressed my sorrow. I 
held out my hand to him and he took it eagerly. Indeed, 
he took it so eagerly and evinced such unmistakable 
signs of cheerfulness that a mean, contemptible reflection 
obtruded itsei. upon my mind — namely, that the loss of 
his household had been less crushing than I had expected; 
that he could dispense with the incessant watch his poor 
wife had maintained over him, and that his philosophical 
repose would not be lessened by the silence of the old 
piano which would never speak again his daughters’ 
touch. 

I introduced the subject as delicately as I could, and 
told him frankly of my recognition of responsibility in the 
matter. At first he seemed not to understand me. 

“Do say!” he observed at last. “You mean the 
women folks ? Why, they is as hale and hearty as kittens; 
a little scorched about the shins and some’ut hoarse yet 
for screeching, but otherwise O K.” 

In my sudden revulsion I squeezed his horny palm 
till he winced; my cup of happiness indeed was full. 

“ That yere cellar came in handy after all,” he contin- 
ued, disengaging his hand; “for when they found the 
doer slammed in their faces, they took the door that led 
down to it and got in one of the outspreading branches. 
A cellar is very much like a woman, as I once before re- 
marked, and this yere time it took pity on the sex.” Then 
with an expression I shall never forget, “ Don’t yer think, 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


343 


sir, it would be a good plan to attend a debatin’ society 
together ? If you say the word I’m with yer; indeed, an 
occasional excussion of that sort does every man good, 
and you needs it quite as much as me.” 

Looking back over the past, I could not help agreeing 
with my friend, and he further enforced his statement, 
by suggestively drawing the cuff of his sleeve over the 
corners of his mouth. 


LVIX. 


And yet, when I came to think over it, I was not quite 
happy. Mr. Crummels’ visit recalled to my mind another 
humble friend for whose loss I was indirectly responsible, 
and who would probably not be resurrected like Mr. C.’s 
estimable family had been. I mean the Knight of the 
Bench. Poor fellow! he had in all likelihood been se- 
verely hurt, and I reproached myself keenly for having 
failed to inquire of the police as to his ultimate fate. I 
was just thinking of the cruel knife sticking like a pin in 
the cushion of his broad back, when I heard a violent al- 
tercation out in the hall, and a moment afterwards the 
door was burst open. Great heavens! how true it is 
that all great strokes of luck and ill-luck come in waves. 
There, to my mixed astonishment and delight, stood Pat- 
rick McGordy himself in all the glory of a brand-new coat, 
a green satin tie, with the Harp of Erin cunningly inter- 
woven as a breastpin. 

There was no hesitation about the McGordy. He had 
pushed aside the officious menial who would have barred 
his entrance, and stood there, pulling his forelock and bow- 
ing at me in the most considerate yet patronizing fashion 
possible. Then, entering the apartment with outstretched 
hand, 

“Ah! yer honor, an’ wasn’t it glorious!” he exclaimed. 

344 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


345 

Faith, an’ it’s nuthin’ loike it Oiv’e sane since me 
mulher’s wake, pace to her bones!” 

I expressed my congratulation at his preservation, in 
quiring to what fortuitous circumstance it had been 
particularly due. 

“ Ah ! yer honor, it’s the chape Oitalian labor that’s 
ruinin’ this counthry that’s done it. They can’t aven sind 
a knife home in an honest fashion. I was wavin’ me 
bench about as a shillelah when me foot shlipped, an’, 
assisted by a prick in the back, Oi found meself lying on 
the floor wid the woman on top. Sez Oi, ‘ It’s at the feet 
of beauty the McGordy only loies,’ an’ as I couldn’t git 
up, why Oi sot still. During the foire the perlice — bad luck 
to ’em! — assisted me down the sthairs wid something more 
loike a kick than cirimony, and when Oi come to, Oi 
found meself lyin’ in the desert wid a cloud of ’skaters 
around me to concale me retrait. But Oi’m all rhight 
now, yer honor, and at yer service ter clane out any more 
arnica mateins — bad luck to ’em! — when you’re inclined 
for the shport.” 

I ventured the opinion that it would be exceedingly 
bad luck for the meetings if my friend should again put 
in an appearance in the same lively spirit, when his mouth 
parted in a winsome smile. 

‘‘It’s right yer are, y6r. honor. After thinkin’ it all over 
Oi’ve come ter consult yez on a matther as might bring ’em 
worse luck sthill. Now, me ould woman, whin I got home 
and told her about the circumstances, sez she, ‘ Pathrick 
McGordy, yer in luck ! Sthrike while the oiron’s hot !’ 
Sez Oi, ‘ Mrs. McGordy, it’s a quare koind of luck that’s 


346 THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 

let about two inches of daylight into me back, but, lavin’ 
out last noight’s proceedings, Oi’ve been on sthrike for 
six wakes.’ ‘ Pathrick McGordy, don’t be a fool,’ sez 
she ; ‘ I spake in mitaphor.’ ‘Well,’ sez Oi, ‘if yer will 
spake in a furren language yer musn’t blame me if I 
can’t undershtand.’ ‘ Pathrick McGordy,’ sez she, ‘ Oi 
spake wid me own muther’s tongue. When Oi said stroike 
for the perlice, I meant to say stroike for the perlice 
force.’ ‘ Begorry, Oi’ve been sthroikin’ for them, or rather 
agin ’em, all my loife, Mrs. McGordy.’ ‘ Sthroike for 
a place on the force, yer ijot! is what Oi mane. Yer said 
as how the gintleman as you assisted, the beautiful gin- 
tleman wid the kurly beard an’ the manners of a prince, 
had been a chief detective or a captain amongst ’em. Git 
him to use his inflooence, an’ you’ll have all the sthrikin’ 
you want widout the penalty of goin’ to prison for it after- 
wards.’ Sez Oi, ‘ Barrin’ the fact that that would rob the 
sport of much of its ricriation, Oi think there’s summat in 
what yer sez. Holy Father! Oi’ve been foitin’ the perlice so 
long Oi’ve got ter look upon ’em quite loike brothers; so 
if yer Honor will only spake the good word, it’s sayin’ the 
McGordy in brass buttons and a locust by his soide as 
you’ll git for yer reward.” 

I expressed a doubt as to the value of my assistance in 
the contemplated direction, venturing the opinion, more- 
over, that with the proposed accession the authorities could 
afford to disband the force entirely. The McGordy, with 
a modesty that belongs to the brave, failed to appreciate 
the delicate flavor of my flattery. 

“Wall, sor, if they’re that way obstinate, ther’s another 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


347 


matther as you might asshist me wid, quite on a differ- 
ent loine.*' And he blushed like a sixteen-year-old school 
girl as he brushed his brand-new beaver against the grain. 

“ How is that ?” I inquired, as he still hesitated. 

“ Well, yer honor, sain’ that it’s amongst friends, Oi 
may as well tell yez. Oi thought perhaps yer might be 
writin’ up an account of the adventure the other night for 
the Per lice Gazette or some ither koind of hoigh- toned 
paper, and if I could come in handy, an’ didn’t spile the 
iffect, Oid loike yer just ter put me in too. It ain’t that 
Oi’m boastful like, but yer say, sor, Oi never figured 
much in print, barrin’ the perlice reports — bad luck to 
’em! — an’ it would plaize the boys, not ter spake of the 
ouhl woman, so much down in the Sixth Warrud.” 

I willingly gave my assent to this reque.st, and as I 
failed to persuade the authorities as to the value of his 
services as a guardian of the peace, I have introduced 
the McGordy to my readers with all the eclat that he de- 
serves. 


LX. 


And now, to finish up the history of my fantastic and 
lurid adventures in the most approved fashion, allow me 
to state for the benefit of a critical public that I did not 
fail in that duty which every good and true American 
seems to consider as the most holy one on every occasion 
and at every crisis of his life. For what, let me ask, 
does he do equally when he inherits a fortune, for instance, 
or when his luck turns against him ? What does he do 
when told by his physician that he is ill and requires rest, 
or that he is depressed and needs excitement ? What 
does he do when he is jilted, or again when he is married, 
or is uneasy about the affection of his own wife or some 
one else’s ditto ? What does he do when he has eaten 
too many dinners and fears the coating of his stomach, or 
has lost his appetite and is unable to eat ? What 
does he do when he desires to regain his voice after too 
much sermonizing, or wishes to cultivate one for a debut 
at the opera ? What does he do when he wishes to se- 
cure a nomination for the Presidency without appearing 
to want it, or, by keeping out of the way, really wishes to 
avoid it? What, in short, does every good and true 
American do in every contingency as widely separated as 
official lightning is from baldness under the most antag- 

348 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


349 


onistic circumstances (except when he robs a bank and 
adopts a nearer alternative)? What does he do ? Why, 
he goes to Europe, does he not ? That is exactly what 
I did, accompanied by my wife. 

My object was a change of air and scene, not only on 
my own account but on hers. So we went — and a grand 
send-olf we had; Mr. Star, Mr. Slocum, Mr. Crummels, 
and even Dr. Henry coming down to the wharf and wish- 
ing us Godspeed. Arrived on the other side, we found 
what we sought in sketching the tracery of oriel windows 
in Gothic cathedrals, or in wandering through the long 
galleries of European art. I had a theory that by a pro- 
cess of dehypnotism I could gradually render my wife 
proof against the influence of mesmerism. So, consulting 
Dr. Charcot, the eminent scientist who presides over the 
Salpetriere in Paris, I induced him to make a special 
study of her case, and, acting on his advice, I first got her 
out of the morbid, hysterical condition Rebecca Seaton 
was largely responsible for, by travel and congenial pur- 
suits. After this I set myself to strengthening her will 
power, the loss of which, I believe, is all that mesmerism 
is based on. This I accomplished by training her to re- 
sist the influence under which I put her for her benefit 
every morning, and by obliging her to fight against it a 
little more and a little more each day until my power be- 
gan to wane. In spite of the danger, in a general way, 
of a newly-married husband training his wife to resist 
his power, particularly when she is beautiful and emo- 
tional, I persevered, and a perfect cure crowned my efforts. 

Candor, however, obliges me to acknowledge that my 


350 


THE ROMANCE OF AN ALTER EGO. 


success may have been assisted by the advent of a pair of 
twins, whose control and management required the culti- 
vation of no little will power on their own account 

One word more and I have done — one word more 
that will raise me to a pinnacle in the public esteem at 
home, and atone in the average man’s mind for all my past 
adversities. Poor old Mr. Dalzelle never quite recovered 
from the effect of the shock his daughter’s illness had 
caused him, and soon after the birth of my children he 
passed away. 

On opening his will I discovered a clue to his otherwise 
extraordinary neglect of his daughter during the period of 
Dr. Henry’s experiments with her. For it was now ap- 
parent that at that very moment the shrewd old wine mer- 
chant was engaged in the consummation of that holy con- 
federacy known as the “ Whisky Trust,” and that his every 
thought was occupied therewith. This circumstance, 
combined with an economical manner of living, enabled 
him to leave us an inheritance that threw into abashed in- 
significance the largest fortunes of the wealthiest aris- 
tocracies of the Old World. 

Consequently there remained nothing else to do on our 
return home than to construct an additional palace in the 
upper portion of that great city of Gotham, and to join the 
ranks of that exalted plutocracy whose highest aim is to 
achieve the double combination of securing seven per cent 
on their capital and at the s^e time to escape paying 
any personal tax. So runs world away. 

FINIS. 

151 


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